


Irrevocably

by Taffyberry



Series: Arcalima [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Adventure, Anduin doesn't know how to feelings, Arcalima, Assassin - Freeform, Blood Magic, Character Death, Conspiracy, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Mage - freeform, Mages, Magic, Magical staff, Mind Control, Murder, Possession, Rebellion, Slow Burn, Travel, Uprising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-03 12:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 71,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taffyberry/pseuds/Taffyberry
Summary: Something dark is happening within the Horde and the Alliance. People are going missing, some turning up dead. A group of mages within Dalaran are whispering something to each other beyond prying eyes about a new form of magic the higher ups don't want them to find out about. Jaina Proudmoore's former apprentice, a stoic blood knight, and the unlikely young Prince of Stormwind, Anduin Wrynn, find themselves thrust together on an adventure to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice.





	1. PROLOGUE: MASKED

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Theramore, but I'm taking liberties with Anduin's age because, well, I can do that. So for peace of mind, he's eighteen in this. Well, another story I started with no real plot in mind :D, I haven't finished my other one yet, but I do have that one fully planned and felt inspired to start something new for a bit. I renewed my wow sub because I'm a fool :'D, but I forgot how much I genuinely loved the story but how much I wished it was more RPG based. Anyway! Here we go! Prologue!

The room was dimly lit. Small, circular, a few oddly shaped bookcases clung to the walls, holding not only books, but numerous other items. The table in the middle of room held papers, a few open books, a map of Azeroth with many marks on it, and one candle which served as the only light for the underground room.

Inside were five people. None of them spoke.

They were waiting.

There was nothing to identify any of these individuals. They all wore black robes, and all had their faces covered with plain, white masks, and their heads covered with a black hood. All adornments such as rings were to be left with personal effects in the rooms they had rented in the tavern above. It would be easy to discern the members of the group, but the first rule of it, was to not seek information about the others involved. Word of what they were up to could not get out, secrecy was their ultimate weapon. 

The door opened and another figure stepped in. This one smaller than the others.

The small figure approached the middle of the table. “They have made no connection,” a woman’s voice came out. “We can find another sacrifice tonight.”

“Forgive me, my lady,” a male voice said, stepping forward. “But isn’t it a bit too soon—they may have made no connection yet, but if we increase the frequency of the attacks it will draw attention.”

A few others voiced agreements. People went missing frequently, but too often and it would arouse too much suspicion. The woman turned to the doubting group. “We just need to change our methods, be careful not to leave a trace,” she paused. “We can try and take criminals from the Stockades, no one will miss them.”

“Or,” another male started, stepping forward. “Take from outside the city, find weak travellers. They go missing all the time—bandits, wolves, orcs, defias—there’s no reason to suspect foul play with them.”

“That is also a good point,” the woman said. 

“I will add,” a fourth voice spoke, one who had been questioning them before. “Of my time in the court-“ he bragged, as he so often did to the ire of those present. “There have been no words of this, no utterings of anything out of the ordinary.”

“If they have figured out magic is involved, then they don’t know either,” the woman said, closing her eyes. “We’ve been careful, as long as we don’t slip up, then our plan is going to succeed.” There was a murmur of agreement with her male counterparts. “The horde and the alliance aren’t going to know what’s hit them when we’re done with them.”

It wasn’t a threat, no, her words were more of a promise. Her fist clenched at her sides. No one questioned her, no one calmed her. They all shared the sentiment, even those involved who were not currently there. They had started slow but grown large enough that their plan was moving faster than ever.

They wouldn’t even have time to react.


	2. CHAPTER ONE: GOOD MAGIC

The morning air of Theramore was thick with the smell of salt and fish. 

Fishermen were bringing in their morning catches to sell to citizens, or to take home to families. There was early morning chatter on the docks as a few men pulled in their boats, a few more fixing some netting which had been ruined by a Murloc that morning. The docks man rang his bell, signalling the arrival of the ship to Menethil Harbour in the Wetlands across the sea.

Some children were on their way through the streets to the local schoolhouse at the edge of the town. There were only a handful of children at any one time, Theramore being so small, and therefore there was only need for a small place to teach them. They were chatting excitedly, laughing all the way as they discussed what they had done the previous evening with their parents. One child was complaining loudly how his elder brother was going off on yet another epic adventure, and how he desperately wanted to go along too.

The sun was low in the sky but held the promise of a beautiful day, the air circulating the tower at the middle of the town was warm and gentle. There were already few clouds, the sky a striking blue. It would be a shame to be inside all day, Theramore didn’t often see this kind of beautiful weather, being stuck in Dustwallow for one. Usually it was overcast, grey and murky, often raining, with a grim aura hanging in the air, even in the summer, which it currently was.

“Are you going to throw yourself from the window, mistress?”

It wasn’t a grim question, Eryn knew. She could hear the playfulness in Pained words, and the young human girl turned to find her staring at her, mischief in her eyes. She had known Pained from a young age, ever since she had come to Theramore to study under Jaina Proudmoore. She’d discovered a natural talent for magic at a young age and had travelled with her father to Theramore to personally ask Jaina to take her on as an apprentice. She had initially said no, but after a few days of not moving from outside of the tower, and after Jaina had sensed the young girl’s natural talents, she had given in.

Eryn was a bright girl. Intelligent, with a quick whit she liked to use to keep those around her on their toes. She was upbeat, generally an optimistic and happy individual. Her hair fell around the middle of her back, a soft brown colour, though she usually tied it into a lazy braid left to sit on her shoulder. The thing about her which stood out most, however, were her pale lilac eyes. Eryn had originally not known how she’d come about them, when her father had brown and her mother had, supposedly, had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, but Jaina had theorised that natural magic build up in her system at a young age had caused it. Eryn wasn’t sure of the reason, and there was no other explanation, so she was happy to accept it as the truth.

“No,” she answered at length. “I was just thinking what a beautiful day it is.”

Pained stared at her for a moment, before chuckling softly. She’d seen the girl grow up and was usually unable to show any indifference to her, though that was just an affect the girl seemed to have about her. She was warm, kind, fair. Pained decided she took after Jaina quite a lot, that the Lady Proudmoore had brought her up well. Her father had died many years ago while searching for some herbs to make his usual tea with, he’d been attacked, rather viciously, by a snake and by the time he returned, there was nothing to do about it. Eryn had stayed by his side, holding his hand until he was gone. With her mother dead when she was still just a babe, and no siblings nor other relations, Jaina had been all she had left. She was patient with her, fair, strict, but kind and warm. She encouraged her curiosity and challenged her mind whenever she could. She taught her magic, but also social courtesy’s, court etiquette, things most noble girls would be taught, even though she was no noble. Eryn saw her as a sister, and despite her original indifference to taking on an apprentice while she was so young, Jaina had grown to care for the young girl deeply.

She had studied with Jaina for so long that she had already outgrown her status as ‘apprentice’, but nevertheless, she lingered with her mentor in Theramore, often looking after the town while Jaina was away on business. Sometimes, Jaina would send her to Dalaran in her steed instead. Eryn liked those days, Dalaran was fascinating to her and she found Rhonin to be an interesting man with interesting stories, which whenever she asked about, Vereesa would sigh loudly and would request she didn’t encourage his big-head anymore. She was fond of Modera, too. She was a fair woman, though seemed cold at first, but she had a brilliant sense of humour and Eryn enjoyed talking with her whenever she got the chance to.

“Eryn,” Jaina’s voice came.

“In the library,” she called back, shutting the book which she’d been engrossed in. She left it on the window ledge to return to and walked towards the top of the stairs where Jaina would meet her. Her tea cup hovered behind her obediently.

“You have two perfectly good arms,” Jaina said, watching the enchanted teacup nudge Eryn’s hand, reminding her it needed to be drunk while it was still warm.

“I also have perfectly good magic,” she said, sipping at her tea now. “This way I can keep my hands free to read.”

“You were using magic to turn the pages,” Pained pointed out.

“Practice makes perfect,” Eryn replied happily.

Jaina chuckled. She tried to teach her modesty with her magic, but it came so naturally to Eryn, that most of the time she used it like she would use her arms, that is to say, often without thought. It was rather refreshing, she had thought many years ago while watching Eryn use magic to turn a seagull into a turtle on the docks. She’d found it hilarious and had carried on doing it. Eryn’s magic was good, innocent, and tended to bring joy to those around her, and so Jaina had long since decided that there could be no harm in letting her use it so openly and so often. “I need to talk to you about something,” Jaina said.

Eryn paused, pushing some of her loose hair from her face. “It seems important.”

“It is,” Jaina paused. “Rhonin has… insisted,” she frowned at the word. “That I take a new apprentice.” She looked put out, Eryn noted, and almost laughed until it dawned on her- “Which means you will now need to formally take the title of mage, and not just apprentice.”

Eryn wasn’t sure how to feel about this. It was true that she hadn’t really been an apprentice for many years now, but it would be… different, to be a mage formally in her own right. “I thought about what to do with you,” Jaina said, watching her calmly, looking for any signs of how she was feeling about this news. “It would not be ideal to keep you here, and I feel also a shame-“ Pained nodded in agreement. “You have a great gift, it’s time you left and made your own mark on the world.”

“So, I would go to Dalaran?” Eryn asked. “Study there? Find something to focus on?”

“That would be the ideal place to start,” Jaina said calmly. “Though, I did not teach you magic alone. The intricacies of diplomacy and the court of Stormwind were focal, too, no?” Eryn nodded, curious where she would go with this. “The king and I have long discussed having a mage more permanently on his council, it would make it easier on both of us and quicker if he always had someone present, but he does not trust people easily, and the last mage he invited in from the outside turned out to be… untrustworthy.”

Jaina paused, watching as Eryn now sat down, trying to process everything. “I believe, if I were to suggest it, he may be accepting of taking you. He will trust you because I do, but if there has been one mistake in my teaching you, it has been to keep you entirely away from Stormwind in all these years. He has never met you, which makes accepting you a harder job.”

“So, what do we do?”

Jaina nodded, sitting beside her. In truth, she didn’t want to send her away, but she had kept her there for long enough that it would be a shame if she truly didn’t do something great enough to be in history books. Jaina knew she would do it, Eryn was the type of person who seemed destined to do great things. She had that feeling about her. “You will go to Dalaran, study, find something to interest you that you can further yourself in with the aid of the mages there, but I will send for you to join me in Stormwind every time I attend. I will introduce you to how the court and council works slowly, and, in doing so, you will gain Varian’s trust, too.”

There was a significance in her plan, Eryn knew. Jaina was not the type to make powerplays, not like this, but Jaina could have suggested any mage she knew to be trustworthy for the king to accept, but instead she had chosen her, practically raised her to be perfect for the role. It was too much of a coincidence, no, Jaina didn’t decide on this recently, or purely out of chance. She’d had it in her mind for a long time, hadn’t she? Eryn saw the reasoning that she’d given her, the king often sent for Jaina for advice, or had to hold off important decisions if Jaina was indisposed. This way would be much quicker. Yet, there was more to it. Jaina raised her to be fair, indifferent to horde and alliance, to make her own decisions on the two factions, yet Jaina desired peace between the two. Eryn had met Thrall, many years ago before Deathwing had torn the world asunder and had asked him many questions about his people that he was happy to answer. While she would not consider herself close with him, she was fond of him and in the short time she’d spoken with him, had come to respect the Orc. No, Jaina had picked her to be almost a proxy for her on Varian’s council, so someone else could be there to gently guide the hands that controlled the fate of its people into peace.

It was a good plan, and Eryn wondered what would have happened had she been older, or had she had a father with strict views on the war one way or another, if he’d passed it onto her. Eryn realised Jaina had played it perfectly, raised her into another version of herself without Eryn even noticing. She felt like, perhaps, she should have been mad at being so used, but instead she found herself being flattered.

“What if he decides he doesn’t trust me?” She asked.

“Then we scrap that idea and you carry on with whatever you wish to do,” Jaina said gently, taking her hand and squeezing it softly. “But he will be fond of you, most people are. Varian is… rough around the edges and he can come off cold and intimidating, but he’s a good man, with a good heart. He’s come a long way the past few years, even more with Anduin… to think, just five years ago I didn’t think I’d ever see them interact the way they do now-“ she smiled fondly. “At the very least, it will do you and Anduin some good to be able to socialise with people your own age.”

Eryn was curious about the young prince she heard a lot about. Jaina was very fond of him. She knew he was a priest, that he was kind and open minded, warm hearted and gentle, very opposite of his father, but she wondered what he was truly like. She knew what most people thought of her, that she was constantly happy, always optimistic, but she knew the truth as well as any other person who showed one self to another. It was tiring to be optimistic all the time, to always try and see even a fledgling of hope in a situation, and while she thrived off the laughter of other people, and while bringing joy and happiness to anyone’s day gave her energy and strength, she liked time alone when she could relax and not have to worry about looking after anyone but herself. She had faults, of course she did, everyone did; she was quick to anger, hard-headed, and always acted before she thought. She had a nasty habit of biting off more than she could chew but being too stubborn to ask for help until the situation was dire. Jaina had tried to get her bad habits from her, the nail biting, the playing with her hair, the mild cussing she’d picked up from the sailors on the docks, but she’d ultimately failed, and instead lectured her on restraint, on calmness, and tried, very hard, to make her pause in her actions, to look both ways and to think about it, before planning. 

“I’ll make arrangements for you to stay in my apartments within Dalaran,” Jaina said. “And you will always be welcome here, you won’t need to be a stranger, you know that, right?”

“Of course, I know that,” Eryn said, smiling warmly at her. “You… have been like a sister to me,” she said quietly. “You had no reason to take me in when you did, you could have ignored my father and me. You gave me a home, an education, this is the first place my father and I truly settled after my mother-“ she broke off. “I could never thank you enough for all you have given me.”

Jaina smiled and Eryn was certain she saw her eyes become wet. She hoped not, if Jaina would cry then Eryn knew she would too. “When I first saw you, a girl of five, begging me so desperately to teach you… I thought for sure it was a joke,” she said quietly. “Many fathers or mothers bring their daughters to me. I don’t know what made me stop the day I did, perhaps it was the desperate look upon your father’s face, or perhaps it was the determination of yours which seemed so out of place upon the face of a five-year-old—but I am glad I did,” she took her hands, squeezing tightly. “You have so much natural talent, to think I almost passed you by… if I had not stopped, if I had not agreed, I don’t know what would have become of you.”

“We would have tried another mage, I suppose,” Eryn said quietly.

“But I wonder how you may have gotten across the ocean to find someone who would help,” Jain added, just as quietly. “Perhaps it is fate which made me stop, but I am glad for it. I am… very proud of the woman you have become.”

The younger woman stared at her mentor, her teacher, with an emotion she couldn’t quite read. And then, out of nowhere, her arms were around her neck and she was holding herself furiously to the blonde. Jaina wasn’t surprised, Eryn was very prone to out bursts of emotion like this. She was a warm person, an affectionate one. She hugged her back, smiling warmly. Eryn smelled like the Blueberry Turnover’s that Ami sold in Dalaran, like sea air, and like the tea leaves she favoured.

Pained cleared her throat. She’d been watching them quietly, a fondness in her eyes. She may have seemed cold, collecting, to all those outside, but Jaina and Eryn knew the truth, the side to her that she only showed to them. The humour she had, the whit, the mischief maker that she truly was. “If you ever need my help, too, don’t hesitate to ask, little mistress,” she said.

Eryn smiled warmly. She wanted to hug her too, but Pained didn’t like that type of affection, most night elves didn’t, and so she had long learned to restrain herself around her. “I’m glad to call you my friend, Pained.”

The night elf cleared her throat, trying hard not to show too much emotion on her face, but was unable to stop the fond smile from creeping upon her lips. “And I, you, little miss.”

“Let’s have lunch together,” Jaina said loudly, coming to her feet. “It’s a beautiful day, let’s enjoy it together on the balcony. I’ll send for some sweet wine.”

Yes, Eryn decided as she returned to the window to breathe in the air. It was a beautiful day, a perfect one. Nothing could ruin it, there was a stillness to the air, a peace which hung over them all. One which they were all too afraid to comment on out of fear it would break the spell which had been cast. The past few years had been so full of pain, so full of turmoil, death everywhere, war everywhere, and now a tentative peace had set in. There were issues, of course, with Garrosh’s horde, Eryn, Jaina, and Pained knew this well, but it was not something any of them could fix, not quickly, not any time soon. She would miss Theramore, she would miss making the fishermen laugh when she polymorphed the Murlocs, or the seagulls into various shapes, she would miss the grateful looks upon the faces of housewives who had picked up too much in the market and were struggling to take it home, so she would levitate their bags and aid them on their way home. She’d miss the early morning chatter of the school children, the laughter on their way home, excited from everything they had learned. She’d miss the sea air, she was positive she’d even miss the gloom of the marsh beyond the gates of Theramore. But, she was excited too.

Excited at the prospect of a new adventure. Excited that she could find who she truly was, excited for what the future had, for how Jaina’s ‘plan’ would unfold. Excited for every new face she would meet and learn from. Excited to grow, to learn everything she could, to make a name for herself, one which she knew both her mother and father would have been proud of. The idea of going into the world alone scared her, too, but she found herself yearning for even the distant dangers of the world. Eryn wanted to change the world, change it for the food, how could she do that if she did not experience the problems those at the bottom of the social hierarchy experienced? Yes, she believed in good magic, she believed she had a gift, one she should use to help other people.

Eryn turned to an empty vase which sat on Jaina’s desk and conjured up a bouquet of Sunflowers with purple leaves. She arranged them carefully, and when she was done, stood back and smiled warmly. Yes, she decided, her magic was pure, and was meant to bring joy and happiness to the world, and that, was exactly what she intended to do.


	3. CHAPTER TWO: HUBRIS

Corel was proud of his people.

That was what he felt as he strolled through Silvermoon that warm afternoon. They had been through so much, but they had endured it, become so much more than they’d have ever thought they would be. They could have given up, he doubted anyone would have begrudged them had they decided to, but instead, they fought back. Against their very prince.

He closed his eyes, pausing in his step. Kael’Thalas had been one of his closest friends, they’d had dreams together, bringing the glory of the elves back. He’d believed in him when he’d followed Illidan to outland, when he had put his trust in that forsaken night elf-

Corel stopped himself, feeling the anger brewing beneath the surface. He had been very lost to discover his betrayal. So, lost that he’d been almost unreachable; Lady Liadrin had all but given up on him, instead leaving him to sulk in his own self-pity. He couldn’t remember what had made him snap out of it, but he was glad for it.

A part of him wished that peace would remain permanent. That their little city, cut off from the rest of the world, would have time to fully heal from the scourge, from Kael’Thas, that in the absence of a greater threat, the mages and paladins of the blood elves could work together to restore everything as it should be.

He knew he would not get so lucky.

Something was amiss recently within the city. To begin with, he had thought himself overly paranoid, but when Lady Liadrin had come to him with concerns about a few missing Farstriders, he decided it was something more. And so, he had investigated. Over the past year there had been over a hundred unexplained disappearances and murders, and none of them seemed linked. This bothered him. If there was a murderer in the city, he wanted to deal with it; he wanted to protect his people. What disturbed him more was how covered up these were. It made him distrustful of Lor’Themar, and so he hadn’t spoken to him about it at all, for fear that he was involved, or that someone closer to him was.

He knew, somehow, he knew it, that they were all connected. It was not by chance these things happened, there were not multiple people doing this, he was sure of that. But who? And more importantly, _why_? After everything his people had been through, why would anyone want to cause them more pain? Why would one of their own want to ruin the little peace they’d found? He didn’t understand, but Corel decided he didn’t need to understand to bring the criminal to justice.

Everyone was a suspect to him, everyone apart from Liadrin. She couldn’t lie to him, she’d never been able to, even from the time she was a young priestess, staring up at him with adoration and respect. She looked up to him, and he trusted her. His thoughts turned to the Banshee Queen, curious if she wanted test subjects and had sought to pluck them from her former home. It made his blood boil. He did not trust her, in fact if anyone had asked him, he’d have questioned why they were in an agreement with the Horde in the first place. Their people had always been allied with the Alliance, and maybe mistakes had been made, but—Garrosh was not honourable, the Lady Sylvanas was not honourable. The Tauren perhaps, were, but the Goblins, too? He thought of the trolls, and though he knew Vol’jin to be a good man, he had such a bad history with the trolls within the forests of Quel’Thalas that he found he couldn’t entirely trust them either.

A group of young children were giggling as they rushed past him. They were chasing a cat across the street as it hurried after an enchanted broom. It was a sight that filled him with warmth, with pride, and then with a sudden apprehension to find the criminal. 

Maybe it was an Alliance assassin?

But then he thought, why would it be? There was no reason for it to be, there was a tentative peace between the two factions in the wake of Deathwing. Plus, he was almost certain, if it was Alliance, they would make themselves known.

Corel needed help, but who could he ask? 

He didn’t want word getting out that he knew something was going on, he was worried, paranoid perhaps, what that would mean. Everyone was a suspect, he reminded himself. He hated himself for wanting it, but if he could see the crime scene untouched, perhaps he could find something about it. Killer’s always had a tell-tale mark, there had to be something to link everything together.

“Ser Corel?”

He paused, turning to stare down at the Blood Knight who had approached him. He wasn’t sure he knew her, but he motioned for her to speak. “Lady Liadrin requests your presence in the Bazaar, urgently.”

“Did she say why, knight?”

“No,” she answered. “But she looked hurried.”

He bowed his head in thanks and turned on his feet to head in the other direction. Had she found something? Was she in danger? He worried, feet speeding up, yet trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible. Corel wasn’t sure he’d done a very good job at it, though he felt his heart slow and his nerves relax when he saw her stood on the corner near a sign.

“Corel,” she said quietly, eyes darting to the side. “There’s been another attack.”

She didn’t need to say more. He’d got his desire. 

“That’s two this week,” she said firmly, leading him into a small house off the side. She locked the door firmly behind her. No one else was there; she’d not trusted anyone else, either. “I thought you’d want to see it. When I realised—Corel-“

Yes.

He felt it.

Magic.

Of course, he felt it, the Sunwell cured their craving, but they were still sensitive to it even if they weren’t mages. Magic, of course, was rampant throughout their city, it was something his people took great pride in. But this, this was different. It was a build-up, a spell just freshly cast there. If they’d come much later, he was positive the energy would have dispersed, and they would have been left scratching their heads.

There was nothing out of the ordinary for the murder. It was a man, his neck was cut, and he was in his own blood, but it was obvious to the pair of them that the wound was not the cause of his death. 

“I searched myself,” she said calmly. “I found no identifiers.”

“The council are covering these disappearances and deaths up,” he said quietly. “I wanted to speak to Lor’Themar about it, but… but I do not trust him.”

Liadrin nodded, though didn’t seem too shocked. “I don’t trust anyone. We need to find out who-“

“We need to find out why, then who will come with the answer, no?” He knelt beside the body, staring at it as though hoping for it to come awake and explain everything to him, but nothing happened. It was cold and remained still. “We can’t let anyone know we know.”

“So, we are to leave him here?”

“No,” he paused. “Let’s move him. Whoever the murderer is, I’m sure they have half the people in power in their pocket, how else can it be covered up? But if there’s nothing to be covered up—”

“Then they’re going to know someone else found out, make them nervous. Yes, I see. Maybe they will mess up,” she paused. This was wrong, so wrong. This was supposed to be a time of peace, a time or prosperity, for their people to finally land on their feet and take a run at making the most of their lives. Not this, not something this sinister. She didn’t want to admit she was afraid. She’d never met an enemy she could not engage with her blade, and now it seemed as if their enemy was made of smoke. Intangible, not truly there. She had thought hard who it could be, but no answers came to her. If anyone had been acting out of character recently, she had not known it. 

Perhaps it was someone from outside. Silvermoon saw many foreign visitors recently, it could have been any one of them. But she did not want to think it was from within the Horde, she had to trust them, to believe in the agreement made by their leaders to bring them together.

“At least we can rule it down to mages, maybe,” he breathed out. “It feels like no magic I know.”

“I agree,” she said. “I suspected shadow magic, at first, but this is different. Necromancy, perhaps?” Her face went pale. “Arthas is gone, the cult of the damned wiped out, but it’s not too far to think someone could be picking up where they left off. It just takes one person to get an idea into their head.”

Corel’s thoughts went back to the Banshee Queen and he frowned. Perhaps the strange magic was Necromancy, which made it perhaps more sinister. But then why the murders? Wouldn’t a Necromancer bring it back to life? And, surely, if a Necromancer was afoot, the smell of fetid decay and corpses would have appeared by now. They all knew the smell, it lingered outside in the dead scar. No one could possibly hide that many undead, not with the amount of people who had gone missing over the year. So, what was it? 

It made him nervous. A magic he did not know, and he had once been a mage! He found it laughable. Once he would have claimed to have known enough magic that Dalaran would go to him for advice, but now it seemed his pride was laughing at him instead, humbling him, bringing him to his knees. The situation was infuriating him. Every time he got an answer he ended up with more questions from it! “Move the body,” he said. “I don’t care where—we don’t need it. Bury it, burn it. Just make it vanish.”

He needed help, and he now had a good idea of who he could ask; someone who he was positive had no connections to any of this. 

“What are you going to do?”

Corel breathed in. “I need to talk to someone who can help,” he answered. “Perhaps, Lady Proudmoore can shed some light on this issue for us.”


	4. CHAPTER THREE: WORLDLY KNOWLEDGE

Dalaran hadn’t changed at all. A soft thrum of magic vibrated in the air, the scent of her favourite pastries rose up, entering the window of Jaina’s apartments, the sounds of two mages speaking very animatedly about what the return of the Highborn would mean for modern magic. Eryn breathed in deeply. She missed Theramore, but in the past few days, she’d become very fond of Dalaran. 

She wasn’t sure whether she had expected it to change, after all, she hadn’t been there for about four months. But, she was welcome to find, that nothing had at all. Right down to the empty vase on the windowsill in Jaina’s apartments. 

Eryn had spent the past few days introducing herself to various people with the help of Rhonin, and to her surprise, Kalecgos. Jaina had asked him to watch over her, though she wasn’t sure it was necessary to burden a former aspect with that type of task. If he felt below his status, he never let on; he was kind and always willing to answer any of her curiosities, and she had a lot of them. She’d met him in the past, so she had no issue with being familiar with him, perhaps the issue was that she was _too_ familiar with him.

But, she supposed she had met everyone significant over the past few days, and now she could finally turn her attention to what she’d been there for originally. She had no idea what to focus studying on first, but there was a vast library below in the Gallery and she was looking forward to spending the day down there. She’d only been there once before, when Jaina had sent her to Dalaran to bring her back a specific tome, being an apprentice, she wasn’t officially able to browse it alone. That was different now. Perhaps, she thought, there were some upsides to no longer being just an apprentice. 

After she had finished her breakfast, and with a promise to herself that she was not going to buy more than one pastry from Ami each day, she hurried herself down to the gallery. Why, she didn’t know where at all to start! She paused in front of the first bookcase, not even entirely sure what subjects the first bookcase contained. All she knew was she wanted to learn it all regardless. The smell of old books was one of her favourites, and though she missed the sea air of Theramore, she knew this scent was going to become significant of home to her. 

There were a few of the librarians hovering at the to of enchanted ladders putting books away and she urged to talk to them, to ask for some ‘grand tour’, but Eryn honestly didn’t know she was looking for. She had an interest in most forms of magic and Jaina had nursed her curiosity so well that it had perhaps become more of a burden than anything. 

“You’re interested in time magic?”

Eryn jumped, removing her fingers from her mouth where she’d been biting on her nails, and turned to face the older woman who had addressed her. She wasn’t sure they’d met, but she smiled in greeting anyway. “I am, but, perhaps it is not what I’m looking for,” she laughed softly.

“If you’re interested in it I don’t see how it’s not what you’re looking for,” she replied.

Eryn chuckled. “Perhaps that is true, but, no, I am just out of my apprentice-hood,” she said. “I’m looking to further myself, but perhaps time magic is a little ambitious.” She straightened out her dark purple robes and bowed her head softly. “I am Eryn Miller.”

The woman smiled warmly. “Canthen Reid,” she replied. “I am not sure I know who you were apprenticed to, I have not seen you before.”

She wasn’t insulted; Jaina had told few people about her. Not out of shame, no, Eryn knew that Jaina would have bragged about her if that had been her personality. But no, so many people badgered her for taking on an apprentice, and since she always said no, there would have been complaints. Now she was openly taking another apprentice, still, she realised there was power in keeping it to herself. If this woman or anyone else underestimated her she would take a pleasure in proving them wrong on her own accord. “Oh, I studied off in a small town in Kalimdor,” she said absently.

“I see,” Canthen replied, looking her up and down. “Do you have any ideas for your first area of interest?”

“No,” she laughed, moving to the next bookshelf. “I have no idea what I am looking for, I’m hoping something will jump out at me.”

Canthen paused, moving to stand directly behind her. This alarmed Eryn, she was aware of everything Pained had ever taught her, how to use her hands to fight, how to disarm someone, how to be aware of where they were at all times- “I may know of something,” she said quietly, her lips at Eryn’s ear. “A new type of magic, newly discovered.”

Eryn shuddered from anticipation. She wanted to know everything about everything. A new type of magic? “I’m listening.”

Canthen paused, speaking loudly about the topic on the second bookcase (“Polymorph” to which Eryn was more interested) as another person passed. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I cannot tell you here—we could be overheard,” she rustled about briefly, then held up her hands in front of Eryn, offering her a small piece of paper.“There is a door, to the north of the city, near the post masters office. Write this glyph in blood on the wall beside it for entrance. All will be explained there.”

Eryn stared at the paper, vaguely aware of Canthen moving away entirely. What could be so secretive, she wondered.She pocketed the paper and returned to browsing the books. This new magic intrigued her, but, the way Canthen had acted, she wasn’t entirely sure it was, well, legal. Perhaps she would mention something to Rhonin about it, or about the small group of mages who Canthen now spoke to, all of them whispering in a group and occasionally looking over at her. 

She shuddered, grabbing a few books on frost magic, and hurrying from the gallery, not wishing to linger there for too long. Something was right, she decided. Something was going on in Dalaran.

It became more apparent over the days that something was indeed going on. She noticed groups of apprentices whispering in the same way the group had with Canthen, and they didn’t always include only mages. A few shop workers had joined in. It set her on edge, even more when she asked Kalec about it and he’d dismissed her worries. Apprentices always had their secrets, always breaking rules, but it was usually harmless, he had said, followed up by saying how he hadn’t witnessed this new strange behaviour. Indeed, Eryn found when she was accompanied with Kalec, or even another higher up, the apprentices never huddled together, never whispered, and never stared.

Eryn was thankful, almost a week after her arrival, when Jaina announced her first trip to Stormwind. She was so happy to see her former mentor than she mentioned nothing about Canthen, nothing about the strange behaviour of the apprentices, and certainly nothing of the hushed whispers which came from every dark corner of the city. 

“You look good,” Jaina said, taking her hands. “We will stay in Stormwind for two days, you have packed?”

“Of course,” Eryn smiled, motioning to the knapsack which sat on the table. There was a book next to it, open with a few pages marked.

Jaina almost laughed upon seeing it. “You are given the freedom to study anything from within the great libraries, and the first tome you pick up is one about different forms of polymorph,” she said, very amused. “Though I won’t confess that it isn’t useful.”

“I took out some others,” Eryn replied. “More on defensive magics.”

“Pained would prefer you studied offensive,” Jaina said.

Eryn laughed. “How is Kinndy?”

Jaina pursed her lips, straightening out her robes. “She is a good apprentice, a happy person. Pained is not fond of her, she is a gnome, so her happiness is… over the top. She will accept her in time,” Jaina assured. “I think she just resents her for taking your spot. She misses you.”

If there was one form of magic Eryn was not confident in, it was her portal and teleportation spells. She knew how to get from Dalaran to Theramore and back easily, but as she had been fairly few other places, she wasn’t sure entirely how those portals would work. So as Jaina drew a portal up, she paid attention to the intricacies, every part of it, even when she picked up her bag and stepped through.

In any other setting, Eryn would have quickly written down the differences she’d felt in the portal, but Stormwind keep appeared around her, and she found herself almost overwhelmed. If she had been asked what she’d been expecting, Eryn would have replied that she wasn’t sure at all, but it was… bigger than expected.She felt suddenly small, very aware of the world outside of Theramore’s walls which she had seen little of. 

“I will introduce you to the king,” Jaina said, leading her up through the main doors to the keep. The guards saluted her with respect, though Jaina paid them no attention. “Then he needs a private word with me, so I will leave you to settle in, if you wander out of the keep, be careful not to get lost. Stormwind is larger than Theramore.”

Eryn grinned at her. “Wouldn’t it be funny to find after all this time that I have a very poor sense of direction?”

Jaina eyed her wearily. “If you turn up in Northshire I really wouldn’t be surprised,” she said at length.

Jaina had taught Eryn much about the court, about what was expected of her there. She knew how proceedings would go and knew the names of a few of the nobles littered around, though she had no idea whose name belonged to who. She wasn’t surprised when ‘Lady Jaina Proudmoore of Theramore’ and ‘Lady Eryn Miller of Theramore’ was announced, though she was more surprised to hear Theramore there. She guessed it made sense; it was her home, as much as she loved Dalaran, it wasn’t Theramore. It wasn’t the sea air, it wasn’t the early morning laughter of children on their way to the schoolhouse.

What did surprise her, though, was the size of the king.

Eryn knew staring at him the way she was, was perhaps unbecoming, but if anyone minded, they didn’t say. Jaina had said he was tall, but she’d failed to mention that he must have been half Vrykul! She understood, suddenly, the ‘intimidating’ aspect of him Jaina mentioned. He gave off a dangerous aura, one almost daring would-be attackers to show themselves, one which commanded the respect of all those in the room. If she was an enemy, Eryn was sure she would have been terrified, yet there was something softer to his aura, something which made her feel safe. Perhaps being in the same room as him would be both the safest and most dangerous place to be, she couldn’t tell which it was. 

“Your majesty,” Jaina said. Varian and Jaina shared a look, one of amusement, which didn’t go unnoticed by Eryn. “I’d like to introduce you to my former apprentice, Eryn Miller. She is very talented, and very intelligent, though I fear I made a mistake with her tutelage and kept her hidden from the world too much,” she chuckled. “She has been itching to see the world, so I decided to bring her with me.”

“Of course,” he said deeply. “You are welcome in Stormwind, Lady Eryn,” Varian said to her. “As a member of the Alliance-“ To this Jaina sighed but he ignored her. “Stormwind is as much your home as Theramore.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Eryn smiled at him, giving him the curtsey, she knew was expected of her. It felt odd, forced somehow, but the formalities were important, Jaina had always expressed that. 

Her room in the palace was a small one attached to Jaina’s. Small, yet she was positive bigger than a few rooms of Jaina’s Dalaran apartment’s put together. It was plain, but nice, she decided, and the window as in direct view of the sun. It warmed the room up, and as it was already open, the sound of birds singing, and the scent of apple blossoms filled her up. She lingered there only long enough to change into some cooler robes, before she left.

“Excuse me,” she said to the first guard. “Perhaps you could tell me the location of the library?”

There was something funny about it, Eryn decided. Hadn’t she just spent her entire week in Dalaran’s libraries? A library which couldn’t be rivalled by any town, or any city, except maybe old elven cities which had long been lost. But, the library at Theramore, and the one at Dalaran held information almost exclusively on magic. Perhaps the one at Stormwind would hold more information, more topics. It excited her.

“It’s off the throne room, ma’am,” the guard replied. “There is a courtyard, the library is attached there.”

It was easy enough to find, and Eryn wasn’t sure if she was disappointed at how small it was. For the size of the city it sure seemed small, and such a shame. Yet, she didn’t let it stop her from getting right in. Jaina had seen her well educated in a lot of topics outside of magic, but she’d never had a chance to do her own study into topics which had especially interested her. 

She found the history books first, grabbing the first two which seemed to interest her. She was quite surprised to find a volume written in Thalassian and picked that up too. She only knew the basics but had always wanted to learn it fully. Perhaps she could find a teacher back in Dalaran. If she understood every language, then no knowledge would be off limits to her. Eryn almost giggled with glee at the idea, levitating the books behind her as she continued to browse.

“Oh,” she sighed deeply. “How am I going to read everything in two days?”

There was a deep chuckle behind her and she turned to find a rather handsome blonde boy sitting at a table. There were numerous books sprawled in front of him as well as numerous parchments. He had a look of amusement on his face as he stared at her, putting his quill down and folding his hands in front of him. Eryn could understand, suddenly, what Jaina had meant by the Prince and the King being very similar, and yet very different. He was her age, older than her by a few months, she knew, but he looked younger. There was a hint of Varian’s strong chin, and his even stronger shoulders, yet he didn’t have the same aura of intimidation. 

“The books won’t vanish, you don’t have to read everything in two days.”

Eryn laughed. “You don’t know that.”

Anduin pulled a face she was certain Jaina would have scolded her for had she done it. “I think I’ve read every volume here multiple times, the library here rarely changes as the years go by. So, I think you’re safe.”

Eryn found it hard not to grin at him, instead trying to remember her manners. “While that may be true, your highness,” she said, moving closer to him. “I am unsure of when I will return here to resume my reading.”

He paused. Intelligent, Eryn thought. She could see why Jaina was fond of him. “Well, you know who I am, but I confess, I’m not quite certain of your name.”

Eryn chuckled. “I am the former apprentice to Lady Jaina,” she said slowly. “I’m Eryn Miller.”

“You are Aunt Jaina’s-“ he broke off, frowning. “I’m sorry, I just- I did not expect… is Aunt Jaina here?”

Eryn was amused, he’d lost his ‘cool’ quickly, showing his true self. He still seemingly had a lot to learn about the court, how to keep himself calm. Or, maybe he was good at it, but he’d decided he’d trusted her instantly. Jaina said he had a habit of that, of trusting people too quickly. She never judged him for it, she enjoyed how he made friends with even leaders of the horde, she found it refreshing and hopeful, but she had still voiced her opinion of how she thought that, perhaps, he should exercise more caution.

“The king requested her presence,” Eryn replied. “She decided to bring me along, I think fearful that I was close to exploring off outside of Dalaran,” she laughed.

Anduin paused, motioning to the chair opposite him for her to sit. She took the seat thankfully, letting her books hover next to her. “I have never been to Dalaran,” he said. “What is it like?”

Eryn recognised his curiosity as her own, he wanted to know the world just as she did. “It is vibrant, and busy,” she said. “Though in a different way to how Stormwind is busy. Dalaran is always full of chatter, mages discussing research topics, or breakthroughs. I confess, the library puts this one to shame-“ she grinned, forgetting herself entirely now she was worked up in conversation. “Walls to walls of bookshelves, packed tightly of volumes all entirely on magic,” she flexed her fingers. 

“And you live in Dalaran?”

“I do,” she paused. “For a week—before that I lived in Theramore,” there was a smile on her lips, one Anduin wasn’t entirely sure was happy or sad. Reminiscent, he decided. “I miss Theramore, it has been my home since I was young.”

“It is odd that we have never met,” he frowned. “I knew Aunt Jaina had an apprentice, but she would never tell me anything about you.”

Eryn laughed. “She kept me a secret from almost everybody, I fear. I think it may have also been my own fault, I was always so busy studying I expressed little interest in meeting people or travelling. But, now I want to see the world.”

“Me too,” Anduin replied. “Of course, I cannot. Even if my father were to allow it-“ he broke off. “I am sorry, I should not speak so freely when we have only just met.”

Eryn found this amusing. He was the prince, if he could not speak to her freely, then who could?He was a polite boy, she decided, and she didn’t need to know him well to tell he was warm. She’d met relatively few priests in her life time, but she could tell he was exceptionally bright even so. 

“You are interested in history,” he said, eyeing up the tomes she had.

“Yes,” she said, letting them hover closer to him. 

“I do not usually see mages use their magic so freely,” he pointed out. “They think it makes people nervous of them.”

“Does it make you nervous?” she asked.

“No.”

Eryn nodded. “My magic is a part of me much like my arms or my feet, why should I not use it as you may use your arms?” she asked, leaning slightly closer. “I am aware of the power I have, aware that while people respect me, they do so out of fear as much as admiration. Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous, one should not forget that. But, that doesn’t mean to be ashamed of the gifts I have, no?”

He gave her a genuine smile, deciding he liked her. He hoped Aunt Jaina would bring her more in the future, and was almost mad at her that she’d kept her away for so long. He had almost no friends of his own age, he’d found it lonely at times, especially with his father absent. Things had improved considerably, though, ever since he and his father had learned to accept one another. Still, he yearned for friendship from someone who could… understand, not the burdens on his shoulders, not the paperwork, just someone who related to the problems that came with being eighteen. The strange, confused feelings of who he was, the rising heat in his cheeks when he’d see a girl who was exceptionally pretty.

“I should have known I would find both of you hear,” Jaina’s voice came, clear and loud, as she approached the table. She tucked her troubled expression away, though Eryn caught it, and smiled warmly at them both. “I’m glad you’ve both met.”

“Aunt Jaina!” Anduin said happily, his work now entirely forgotten as he got to his feet. “Are you staying long?”

“Just two days,” she said. “But perhaps there will be occasion to visit sooner rather than later this time.”

“I hope so, father’s been irritable recently,” he sniffed indignantly.

“He has a lot of worries on his mind,” Jaina replied gently. “But I am sure he has relieved some of them now.” She paused, curious as to what they had both been talking about. They’d been engaged in a conversation when she’d entered, both talking fast and excitedly. “Anduin, would you care to join Eryn and I for some lunch in the gardens?”

“Yes, of course,” he said instantly. “I’ve been trying to get father to have lunch outside recently, to relax, but you know how stubborn he is.”

Jaina laughed. “You are as stubborn as him, Anduin.” He blushed. 

Eryn liked Anduin. He was interesting, she hoped to be able to speak with him more and hoped deeply that Jaina’s comment about returning to Stormwind sooner rather than later held true. Dalaran was nice, full of magic and information, but, and if she’d been honest, she’d been craving actual friends. Jaina was a sister to her but also her mentor, and while she classed Pained as her friend, it was still not the same. She’d hoped she would create new friends in Dalaran, but the strange behaviour of the apprentices had been counter to that, so she had tried to stay away from them. Rhonin and Kalec were kind, but how could she consider them her friends, when Rhonin was at least twice her age, and Kalec—well, she wasn’t even entirely sure how old he was.

“After lunch, Eryn,” Jaina said. “I’ll show you around the city. It is too beautiful a day to be cooped up inside.”

“Make the most of it,” Anduin warned. “The weather has been too good for too long, I am sure it will rain soon.”

“That’s rather pessimistic of you, Anduin,” Jaina laughed.

He grinned ruefully at her. “I see it more as being realistic than anything else.

Eryn chuckled, feeling happier than she had in a long time. For the first time in a week she did not crave the salt air of Theramore, or the sound of laughing children, she didn’t even wish to hide in a book and forget the rest of the world around her. She was perfectly happy and decided she would be thankful if the peace was never disturbed.


	5. CHAPTER FOUR: IN HUSHED WHISPERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used some of chronicle as a reference for some of this, and then just kind of made up my own thing on how the light and arcane work. I kind of hate myself, because I'm having so much fun writing a mage character, I now want to level a new one, despite knowing they aren't half as cool n game as my imagination would want them to be , haha.

In the weeks that followed, Eryn accompanied Jaina to Stormwind four or five times. She spent much of her time there in the library until late at night, reading by a low candle, enjoying the scent of the musty old books, and mostly enjoying the peace and quiet. There was no argument that Dalaran’s libraries were better, no debate that there were older books there that smelt even better, but Dalaran was always so noisy. People were always talking, always… planning. Eryn didn’t like the way some people stared at her, or stared at other mages, it was a mix between hunger and knowing something that she did not know. She spent some time exploring Stormwind, too, though at the urging of Jaina. She quite liked Stormwind, its people were kind and she liked doing magic for the children in the trade district, distracting them so their mothers could do the shopping they desperately needed to do. 

Of Anduin she saw little, he was so busy with his own duties, that when she did see him, he was often quite tired. She spent more time with Varian in comparison, though only once had it been without the company of Jaina. Once she’d started seeing him outside of an official setting, she could see that he was a much warmer person than he seemed to let on. She liked him. He was confident, firm, and he knew what needed to be done. He didn’t second guess himself, and he never cared what people thought of him. He did what needed to be done, even if some people resented him for it. 

She also spent some time in Theramore. She had desperately wanted to meet Kinndy, and she had missed the sea air so badly, she’d spent an entire afternoon helping the fishermen in the rain, just so she could head back to Dalaran in the evening and take the salty scent with her. The scent of Dalaran was her least favourite thing. Magic was so concentrated there, and the scent of it was so strong that sometimes it made her eyes water. She’d been worried about this and had consulted with Rhonin and Kalec about it, the Dragon Aspect suspecting that she was just overly sensitive to magical energies. Rhonin had found it funny, simplifying Kalec’s suspicions to ‘you’re allergic to magic’. Eryn had to admit she saw the funny side of it, a mage being allergic to magic like it was pollen, but it was also incredibly frustrating. She tried to drown it out with the scent of Ami’s pastries, but at times, even they couldn’t help.

The harbour in Stormwind had quickly become one of her favourite places in the city. The scent and the sounds reminded her of home, but it was so much busier, and she enjoyed watching people come and go. It may have sounded funny, she craved the peace and quiet one moment, but the next enjoyed the bustle of the busy harbour. She only liked peace when she was trying to think or trying to read; other than that, bustle made her feel like she was surrounded by people, that she wasn’t quite alone as she was starting to feel.

She’d made no real friends in Dalaran. Canthen had stared at her a few times, whispering with her friends, but the apprentices, and newly appointed mages seemed to entirely ignore her. She just assumed they found out she was Jaina’s hidden apprentice and resented her for it. At least, that was what Modera had told her. A lot of the mages in Dalaran had wanted desperately to study under Jaina Proudmoore, she was one of the greatest mages of their time, after all. After Aegwynn anyway. Eryn recalled the older mage from Theramore, though she did not speak with her often, but it was from her she’d picked up her enjoyment of tea drinking. 

It was about a month after she’d left Theramore when everything began to happen.

The weather had been perfect, an early morning start as she headed to the bank to take out some gold so that she could buy a few new quills. She’d made the morning trip about three times since moving to Dalaran and usually there were very few people awake that time of the morning. Eryn’s foot hit the bottom step of the bank, her coin purse now heavy in her hands, when an apprentice rushed past her. She paused to let her go, but then lingered when she heard hurried, frantic whispers.

“Did you see the body?”

“Shh!”

“What have we gotten into-“

“Don’t say my name-“

Eryn could hear the fear in their voices and straightened up. Body? She wanted to peer around, to see their faces so she might do something further with what she was witnessing, but she couldn’t risk them seeing her, instead she sunk down to sit on the bottom step. She was now hidden by the wall, they wouldn’t see her at all.

“We have to do this,” the second voice said, sounding firm. It was a woman’s voice, high pitched with an accent. Elven, she suspected. “You heard what they said-“

“Yes,” the first replied, a male voice. No accent. It was a smooth voice, deep. Eryn didn’t recognise it. “They’re going to lock us up just for studying magic.”

Eryn straightened. Who was? This was the first she’d heard of this—was someone targeting mages? Was that why Jaina was so busy recently, why whenever she’d seen her leaving the council room with Varian, she always had a grim look on her face? If so, why wouldn’t she tell her?

“I can’t imagine the king ever wanting to do that,” the male said again, she heard the disbelief.

“No… though he doesn’t show much interest in mages, does he? And after the last one sold secrets to Sylvanas-“ there was a pause. “The only mage he keeps is Jaina, and isn’t she involved?”

“That’s Lady Proudmoore-“

“I think we’re past using respectful language, Al-“

“Don’t’ say my name!”

Eryn sat there, feeling quite shocked. Jaina and Varian were… involved in locking up mages? Surely the pair had to be mistaken, why on earth would they do that? There was no logic for it, she’d seen no hint of it. Jaina’s grim look for sure, but that meant nothing. It could have been anything. She’d met the king enough to know he wasn’t as strict and as terrifying as he seemed. Yet, what was it Anduin had said to her? People were often scared of mages? What if the crown had decided mages were suddenly to be feared? That they needed to be controlled?

But the council seemed fine. And, surely, they were the ones who were to be in control of mages? And, yes, Jaina was the head of the council, but, Eryn argued, they also had Kalecgos, the former Blue Dragon Aspect, guardian of magic. It was his job, too. So why was he not involved?

She wanted to correct them but came quickly to the conclusion that she’d heard something she really shouldn’t have, and she wanted answers. These two had no answers, so there was no use talking to them. She did not believe for any length of time that Jaina and Varian were plotting to lock all mages up, yet she knew with a certainty that those two mages certainly feared that very event.

Jaina had raised Eryn to be forward. If she had a question or a concern she should voice it without hesitation. She would find out what was going on, whether their claims had any basis to it, though she didn’t think at all that they did. 

Eryn moved to stand up when the pair rushed past, heading towards a figure heading into the Blacksmith’s. She paused, making it look like she was picking up a few coins so that no one would suspect she’d been looking (something Pained had taught her so she could ‘spy’ in the market place), and glanced up, just in time to see them greet Canthen with a look on their faces that seemed only to say they felt safe and secure around her.

Something was going on in Dalaran, and Eryn wasn’t sure she liked it.

She hurried back as quickly as she could, her quills forgotten. Eryn couldn’t explain the urgency nor the secrecy she felt. She understood she could have spoken to Rhonin about it, but since they’d implicated Jaina, she felt it was only right to ask her friend. Luckily for her, Jaina was currently staying in Dalaran, doing some research of her own. She hadn’t been awake when she’d left, but Eryn was pleased to find Jaina staring out of the window.

The grim look was back on her face as she watched the streets below, and she hadn’t seemed at all aware of the younger woman’s return. Eryn knew Jaina well, she knew every expression that hung from her face, and this one was the look she wore when something troubled her that she couldn’t figure out. Not the one she got when she had to do something that didn’t feel right to her. It relaxed her, some part having been on edge to the accusations.

“Jaina.”

The blonde jumped, turning to face her. “Eryn, you scared me. I didn’t hear you enter.”

“You were very distracted,” she pointed out.

“Yes, I have a lot on my mind,” Jaina murmured, moving to look back out from the window.

Eryn inhaled, setting her coin purse down on a table and approached her. She trusted Jaina, yet she feared where this would go. “Something is going on,” she said firmly. “The apprentices are all acting… odd, and just now I heard two of them whispering about a body-“ Jaina turned to her sharply but didn’t interrupt. “They were scared, they said they had to do _it_ , whatever it is. Then they said you and the king were going to lock mages up—they really seemed to believe it. I didn’t know where they would have gotten the idea from, until-“ she paused.

“Until?” Jaina pressed, putting her hands on her former student’s shoulders. “Eryn?”

“Well, they chased after this woman I met—Canthen—” Jaina shook her head, not knowing the name. “I met her here my first few days, she offered to teach me a new type of magic. They caught up to her and… they looked safe with her, like she could protect them from this. It’s not true, is it?”

“Of course not,” Jaina frowned. “Where would anyone get the idea we wanted to lock mages up? That’s absurd.”

Eryn paused. Jaina looked so troubled, more than before. As if the answers had brought more and more questions and more and more people into whatever kind of puzzle was going on in her mind. “What’s going on?”

Jaina returned to stare out of the window. “There have been disappearances and murders in Stormwind and Ironforge for over a year. Varian thought nothing of them, at first, but so many unsolved in a short space of time—it made him suspicious. Nothing ever links the killings and disappearances apart from the fact that there’s no trace of a suspect, and that they were all hidden by higher ups. Therefore, he decided they must be linked somehow. I didn’t take it seriously at first… and then Kalec told me a few people had vanished in Dalaran too.”

“I haven’t heard of this…?”

“No, it’s being kept very quiet, and not by choice,” Jaina frowned. “They were originally hidden from Varian, too. It seemed a small thing, something we could stamp out—but then I got a letter from a very old friend of mine,” Jaina’s voice went small and quiet for a moment, thinking of days long ago, of a simpler time, before everything had become like this. Of a time when she was young and studying herself, when Kael’thas had tried courting her, and his best friend had laughed at him. She had liked Corel, he was immensely talented, she remembered being in awe of him, being relieved when she found out he had not followed Kael’Thas to the legion, more relieved to find out he still lived. “They are happening in Silvermoon too, exactly the same, but he found out something Varian, Kalec, and I have not.”

Eryn inhaled, moving closer as if sensing the secrecy.

“Magic was used to kill a victim, but magic that was unfamiliar to him. He sought my counsel on the basis he thought it could be Necromancy.”

“And is it?”

“No,” she sighed, seemingly frustrated. “It is similar, but… it is not death magic, there is no trace of the scourge in connection to it.”

“So why was there no trace of magic on the other killings?”

“We have no idea,” Jaina replied weakly. “This odd form of magic vanishes all its traces quickly. The only way Corel found out was because he and his associate found a fresh body. Usually a build up of magic in Silvermoon would go unnoticed, but they were already aware something was going on. It’s all connected, but the more we discover, the bigger it becomes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a mess, and it’s….”

“Scary,” Eryn offered. “That something so big is happening, for so long, and no one has noticed.”

“This woman, Canthen, you said she offered to teach you a new form of magic?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if this form of magic is…” she trailed off, biting her lip as she thought. “Tell me what she told you. I’m going to ask Corel to accompany me and see if he senses the same magic he felt in Silvermoon. You will go to Stormwind, tell Varian everything which happened in this conversation, and wait there until I return or… or somehow I get a message to you.”

Eryn wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Jaina going off to investigate this, she even asked her to take Kalec or Rhonin with her as well as this Corel person. The extra firepower couldn’t hurt, but she had just shook her head and said no. She trusted the pair of them, but she didn’t know if they were being watched. They couldn’t give the only suspects into the mess any time to be on their guard. They had to take them by surprise.

Still, it nagged at her. Even as she approached the throne room with what she was sure worry tucked into every crevice of her frown. She paid no attention to any of the guards who greeted her, and she received some funny looks for it; Eryn always greeted them back with their names, having taken the time to try and memorise as many of them as possible.

“Lady Eryn,” Varian said in surprise when she was announced. “I was not expecting you. Where is Jaina?”

Eryn paused, fiddling with her hands. “I have a message from her, for your ears only.”

She was glad he trusted her, that he heard her urgency and nodded, motioning for her to head into the map room to the right. Anduin was there and he looked up, shutting a book when he saw them. “Eryn-“ he said happily, getting to his feet.

Varian paused. It was for his ears only, but… Anduin would be king one day, and he would need to deal with this type of thing on his own. Plus, he reasoned, if Jaina had trusted it to Eryn, he could trust it to Anduin. He motioned for his son to come closer and listen, then for Eryn to speak.

She told him slowly, very carefully, of everything that had happened that morning. Her lilac eyes watched as his frown grew deeper, and Anduin’s confusion grew and grew with every word. He had no idea about it, then, and she was certain his expression of horror when it dawned on him that Jaina was possibly in trouble very much matched her own when she’d realised it.

“What do we do?” Anduin asked, turning to his dad.

“We wait for her message,” Varian replied firmly. “We can not rush after her, we don’t know if she’s been found out or not. For all we know she could have infiltrated them.”

It didn’t sit well with Eryn, and she knew by Anduin’s indignant glare towards his father, that he didn’t much like it either. “Anduin,” he sighed, putting a large, firm hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes we must make choices that are difficult, but for the best of a situation. It is our duty as king. Eryn knows this.”

Eryn gulped, not liking that Anduin was now staring at her with something that was akin to disappointment. She did know this, but that didn’t mean she liked it. She would have been all for going after Jaina with fireballs and water elementals. 

But, all they could do was wait.

Anduin returned to his book while Varian left to resume his own duties. Eryn felt awkward and opted instead to stare at the maps in the middle of the room. She stared at it long and hard, as if it was going to come up with some answers for them, but instead it troubled her more. Her eyes gazed over Stormwind, then to Dalaran, and then to Ironforge and Silvermoon. These were the places the disappearances and murders had happened, and they were all in the same continent. Yet, they were not easily reachable in a short amount of time for anyone but a mage, or at least with a mage helping them. She wondered what the time space for each event had been, had any happened at the same time? Then it would be indicative of it being more than one person, she thought. And, if they weren’t in short spaces of time, then perhaps it pointed towards someone without magic pulling the strings. 

Her eyes skimmed over to Theramore and she sighed deeply, tracing the outline of her beloved home with her fingers.

“You miss it.”

Eryn looked up at Anduin who was now stood the opposite side of the chart table, watching her. It was not a question, just a statement. “I do,” she replied. “Dalaran is okay but… it hurts my head to be there for too long. Theramore is nicer, as is Stormwind. I like it here.”

“You could always move in to the Mage Tower here,” he suggested. “They have lodgings.”

“It is usually expected that mages fresh out of their apprenticeships study for a few years in Dalaran,” she murmured. “They like to keep an eye on our usage of magic in case one of us starts summoning demons or turning people into undead.” She found it amusing the way he shuddered but was glad he seemed to understand how serious both of those events were. “We are supposed to use those years to further our studies on our own, too. Pursue magic we have not had a chance to expand upon, for one reason or another.”

“What are you currently studying?”

“Protective runes, specifically those used by the Highborne during the time of Azshara,” she said, watching him. “Highborne magic is extremely powerful and intricate, it even feels different to the magic I would use. I read about one rune which had taken over ten years to finish, it was created simply to protect a temple out of reach of the sentinels. Of course, with the fall of Zin-Azshari and the exile of the remaining Highborne, most of the magic has been lost.”

“That sounds… interesting.”

Eryn laughed despite herself. He’d gotten the most amusing look on his face, as if he was torn between asking for more information and protecting his sanity because he would have been sure he wouldn’t have really understood, just the way she probably would not have understood had he spoken to her about the intricates of the light. “I like history,” she carried on. “Even if ancient forms of magic aren’t practical, I still think it is good to remember them and record them, no? If all else, it tells us what magic should be avoided in the future.”

“Have you ever studied the light?” he asked suddenly. “Some people think of it as a form of magic.”

Eryn chuckled softly. “They would be wrong, though, because the magic I use has basis of the Arcane, which comes from order. The way things are, changing that form and ordering a state into something new. Your… magic, I suppose, is less… it is more of a force. It comes from some place entirely different. All forms of magic are linked, you can not have one without the other, for instance, there is no holy magic without shadow magic, no arcane magic without fel, for instance,” she paused, trying to phrase her words better. “It is easy to simply your light to magic, and I guess at heart, it essentially is, but that is a vast over simplification. They are both cosmic forces, yet they work in different ways.”

“As a priest, I pull on the light, almost, channel it to do what I need it to. Paladins embody the light. How does it feel as a mage?” He asked.

“It is less of an outside force and more of an inside one,” she frowned, thinking it over. “Yet there is magic in the air and the world we can draw upon too, like the leylines in control of the Blue Dragons. Most of the magic we use is in ourselves, we can increase it, add to it—some people deplete it.”

“What happens then?”

“Well no one really knows,” Eryn murmured. “Some people die, some people get their magic back, some people live without magic for the rest of their lives. It is not an easy thing to research because no one wants to risk being cut off from magic. It would be like living in the most beautiful garden, and once being aware of all the birdsong and all the colours and all the scents, but suddenly having it all shut off.”

“That sounds… terrible,” he frowned, glad the light did not feel that… final to him. He could not deplete the light, not… in the way she could deplete her own magic. The magic was not… his in the first place, though the light felt different depending on who was using it, or that was what he’d been told anyway. 

Eryn smiled knowingly then turned her attention back to the map as Anduin went back to his book. She was glad he no longer seemed angry, though she wondered if he had been angry or ‘disappointed’ in the first place. He was a kind person, very warm. She was curious what he’d be like as a king, he seemed far too gentle and soft hearted to be able to handle acts of war, but, he was still young. He would grow into it, perhaps. And, hopefully, she thought, he wouldn’t have to grow into those shoes for a very long time yet. He had a good role model and a good teacher; Varian was a good king.

Her lilac eyes scanned over the maps some more, trying to figure it out. There had to be something she was missing, she was certain of it. Some glaringly obvious detail they’d all been overlooking. It unsettled her, when she thought back about the apprentices, how certain and how scared they had been of the plan Jaina and Varian supposedly had for all the mages. They had truly believed it, and she doubted they were the only ones. The hushed whispers of all the apprentices in the past few weeks seemed to make more and more sense. It made her go cold. If they were all involved—and they weren’t the only apprentices, there were many more in the mage towers in cities, and then new mages, and apparently senior mages. Just how many people were caught up in this web? And how many were at the top spinning it?

The doors flew open and Varian strode in with a determined look on his face. Accompanying him was a Blood Elf. His armour had blood on it, and he held a nasty cut on his cheek which he was healing himself. He was handsome, in a way, Eryn decided. He had a serious look on his face that looked so natural there she was positive it always looked that way, and he held himself so rigidly it was as if he was being inspected by his superior always.

“Father?” Anduin asked.

Eryn gulped, fingers wrapping tight around one of the map figurines. The blood elf, and the obvious fight he’d been in—“This is Ser Corel Dawnfade.”

Wasn’t the friend of Jaina’s called Corel?

Eryn moved forward. “Where is Jaina?”

Corel moved to stand ahead of Varian. He had broad shoulders and broad arms, yet he still looked small next to Varian. He moved with a significance and a grace that Eryn could only dream of, every movement he made had a purpose to it, one that commanded respect and all attention. She could imagine him at the head of a great army, with each soldier hanging onto his every command. Yet, there was something else. Magic, she decided. She could almost taste it on the air. This person was a paladin, she had no doubt, yet at some point he had been a mage, too. 

Yet she turned her attention to what he was about to say, what she already knew. Her stomach tied up in knots as she thought about Theramore, about Pained, and about Kinndy. Of the kind old woman who had introduced her to tea and had been very fond of Jaina many years ago. Of her people, of everyone who relied on Jaina for strength, of all the little girls and boys who idolised her, much like she had when she was their age. Jaina her role model, her mentor, her sister--

“Jaina has been taken.”


	6. CHAPTER FIVE: HEAVY SHOULDERS

No silence filled the room after Corel’s words. Eryn felt there should have been, that there should have been some form of _pause_ or a lull, just for a moment, just so the news could sink in. Jaina was taken. Taken _where_? By whom? And How? Varian and Corel were just talking quickly, too quickly, she couldn’t keep up. She felt that it was wrong, this wasn’t how things should be going. Was she breathing? Her heart was beating, thrumming so fast in her chest it reminded her much of when a butterfly had gotten stuck in the inn back home in Theramore.

Theramore.

Eryn straightened up. Her home. Pained. Kinndy. They were waiting for Jaina to return. Anduin looked as dazed as she did, he was sat down, not paying any attention. Eryn felt she should too, but, as quickly as her shock had set in, everything snapped into action. The words said between Corel and Varian became clear to her and she urged her mind to keep up, to think harder, to contribute.

“They did not see my face,” Corel was assuring him. “If they did I would not have come here personally.”

“Jaina is resourceful,” Varian said firmly, yet not entirely sounding like he believed this situation was one in which that would help. “So, we have no idea where you went?”

“No, the room Canthen told to Eryn-“ she straightened up, leaning forward. “It was a portal,” he looked quite disgusted. “It felt nowhere familiar. I can’t say where it was, and it’s likely they would have moved after.”

Eryn cleared her throat. “Did you get any information, though? What their goals are? What the magic is?” Jaina’s sacrifice couldn’t be in vain! It just couldn’t. She swore, she would get her back—somehow. She was just a child really, compared to these other two. Anduin was staring at her in the most peculiar fashion, as though she had grown two heads and he did not recognise either of them. She noted his hands were clenched into tight fists.

“It’s not necromancy,” Corel said. “And they’re not summoning demons. I have no idea what it is, or how they came across it. Maybe it’s some ancient form of magic I have never heard of? I find that unlikely.” Eryn wasn’t sure if that was arrogant of him to say, but Elves were older than most humans, if anyone would have vast intelligence on ancient forms of magic, it would be one of them. “Not knowing about what powers they command is what unsettles me more than the fact it overwhelmed Jaina.”

“And their goals?” Varian pressed.

“It sounds like they want a rebellion, and not just against you-“ Corel paused. “They mentioned both Horde and Alliance, but what their full plan is… what the end goal is, I cannot say. What do they hope to achieve with this?”

“We need more information,” the king said, looking more and more troubled. “About this magic, about their plans, the people involved-“ he inhaled, pausing. “We can not tell anyone else. We don’t know who oversees this, how many are involved.”

“So how do we get information?” Anduin said, speaking for the first time. “How do we find Aunt Jaina if we have no leads? Can’t we just ask Mathias?”

“No,” Eryn said quickly. “There’s only two other people in this world Jaina would trust with this information,” she wrung her hands nervously. “When she did not go to Rhonin or Kalec in Dalaran she told me it was because she feared they were being watched, but she mentioned how had she the time, she would consult with Pained and, uh, her advisor back home.”

“And there’s the case of Theramore,” Varian paused, sighing deeply.

Varian did not look old to Eryn. In fact, he looked quite young considering, yet right then he looked as though he were so tired of fighting, so tired of everything being in such a mess, that he looked… old. She saw the world-weary warrior, not the king she was used to seeing. Corel next to him was as stoic as he’d first been, though his eyes were trained on the map. She could see his eyes flickering around, narrowed in concentration as he tried to put everything together. 

“We have to get Aunt Jaina back,” Anduin said again.

“We need information.” Corel murmured, not looking at him. 

Eryn thought for a moment. The only people who knew anything were the four in the room, six if they agreed to let her confer with Pained and Aegwynn; after all, someone would have to handle Theramore’s affairs for… however long it took. She felt responsible, too. Maybe she should have let Kalec or Rhonin handle it instead, she was very aware that they could have been taken too, that perhaps she was a bad person for wanting to bargain Jaina’s life for someone else’s, and while she was positive they were important to other people, Jaina was important to her. She’d taken her and her father in, given her a home, a role model to look up to, something to work for. Given her an education, put clothes on her back, and food in her belly. She’d raised her up to be well spoken and assured, to take a place on the king’s council no less. She had taught her to be fair and just, but never to be passive. Never to sit back and let an enemy win. No, she’d taught her how to fight back when it had to be done. Pained had seen to it, too, aware that as neutral as Jaina wished her to be, that one day Eryn would need to defend herself, that she would need to depend on more than just being a mage.

“I will do it,” she said loudly, firmly, with a conviction and a confidence she surprised even herself with. All three pairs of eyes turned to her. “If you will agree, I would discuss this with Pained and Jaina’s most trusted advisor, she can help figure out where to start, I am sure of it,” Eryn paused, leaning closer as if pleading them to agree. “No one else can do it, it has to be one of us, and no offence, your majesty, but you can’t exactly do it. Everyone knows you, and you can’t leave the city. You have to lead people.”

“She’s right,” Corel sighed. “That leaves three of us.”

Anduin inhaled, standing up. “I’ll help.”

“Anduin-“

“Father,” he said firmly. “I want to do whatever I can, not sit back and feel useless!”

“Your highness,” Eryn said, looking at him sceptically. “You’re just as well known, if you go poking around, they’re bound to suspect. I am a mage, if they catch me I can just lie, tell them I was curious and wanted in.”

“You can’t go alone,” he said firmly. “We can figure out a cover story, travel together. If you get injured, who will help?”

“I will go with her,” Corel spoke firmly. 

Eryn turned her gaze to him. “Your help is appreciated, Ser, and while I’m positive you are the most skilled of us three, you will draw just as much attention. You are Sin’Dorei, you will be stopped at every non-neutral town we pass, if they have eyes and ears everywhere… aren’t they going to find it suspicious?”

His eyes narrowed. She was right, of course.

Anduin stared up at his father, almost pleading for him to come up with some perfect explanation to the problem. He couldn’t think of an answer, but he just didn’t want to stand around! He understood the situation as best he could, and while these mages had to be stopped, he thought more about Jaina. Where was she now? Was she cold? Alone? Was she hurt? Was she even alive? He inhaled, clenching his hands. He may not have been a fighter, not like his father, not like this Paladin was, and not like Eryn, but he could heal them. 

“Lady Eryn,” Varian said, turning his body to face her. “Speak with these two people, seek the counsel of this advisor. See what she suggests.”

“And in the meantime?” Corel pushed.

“I will draw up plans for the three of you to go together,” he said. Anduin’s face lit up. Varian hated the idea of sending him out on such a dangerous task, but he couldn’t send Eryn alone, and she was correct in pointing out that as a member of the horde, he couldn’t walk around as freely as she could, and thus he would hinder the process and stick out. But that was his plan, to make the three of them stick out. “Go now,” he said to her. “I will explain everything when you are back, pack anything you are going to need, make sure someone is looking after Theramore, though, I will do what I can to aid it.”

Eryn bowed lightly to him, creating her portal home. She had never been sure of her work on portals, but she always knew her way home, no matter what. It was just the… getting back to Stormwind she was worried about. However, she had no time to mess up, no time to second guess herself, and stepped through instantly.

It was raining in Theramore. The loud drumming on the top of the tower should have comforted her, she thought, but instead it just drew attention to the fact it was much emptier without Jaina there. She could hear two voices upstairs, Kinndy, and what sounded like Pained lecturing her. She chuckled softly despite the situation and crept upstairs. 

“Eryn!” The Night Elf said, when she heard the creak of the middle step. “Did Lady Jaina forget her paperwork again?”

“No,” Eryn paused. “I’m sorry, Kinndy, but could you send up the older lady from downstairs, please?” she stared down at the gnome. “I need to speak with her and Pained in private.”

“Of course, Lady Eryn!” Kinndy said, happier than ever, and not picking up on anything strange. For all she knew, Eryn was always this serious; perhaps that was why Jaina always said so much amazing stuff about her! She hopped from her chair and started downstairs.

“Eryn?” Pained asked, moving closer. “What is this about?”

“Jaina has been taken by some… cult, I guess,” Eryn said quietly. “But no one knows, not apart from myself, the king, the prince, and a Sin’Dorei friend of Jaina’s.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain when Magna Aegwynn is here,” Eryn frowned, wringing her hands together again. She busied herself by packing a knapsack full of things she felt would be useful. A few books on ancient magic that she’d read a few times already from Jaina’s personal library, mana potions, powders and herbs to make her own, rune-stones for it she needed to make powerful enchantments—she felt as though she was on auto-pilot. 

“You sent for me?”

Eryn jumped, having been so in her own world she hadn’t been paying attention. That wasn’t good, she decided, if she was going to come out of this situation alive, if everyone was, she couldn’t afford the liberty of distraction, of daydreaming. She explained the situation quickly yet in as much detail as she could, impressing on the pair of them the importance of telling no one. Pained wanted to accompany her, until Eryn pointed out that she was going to have to watch over Theramore until Jaina was back, that Kinndy would need watching, because for all she knew, the gnome was part of the cult too.

“So, the king is going to send you, the prince, and this elf on some suicide mission?” Aegwynn almost grunted. She was sat at the window, looking out of it rather than at the girl. There was a cup of tea in front of her. “Do you know where to start?”

“No,” Eryn paused. “I was hoping you would have some ideas.”

The older woman said nothing for a long time, sipping her tea and sighing every now and then. Eryn almost snapped at her out of impatience, surely, she knew time was everything, that they had no time for this, but she didn’t want to cause the older woman to not tell her out of spite. She may have liked and respected Jaina, but that didn’t pass onto Eryn just because of her status as Jaina’s first apprentice. “If you want to find her I suppose you need to find out more about this cult,” she sighed. “What is their end goal? What motivates them?”

“What means are they using,” Pained murmured. “It’s going to take time, what if-“

“What if Jaina dies in the mean time?” Aegwynn asked. She put her tea cup down and smoothed out her robes. “She’s a resourceful woman, I’m sure they’d bitten off more than they can chew by taking her,” she chuckled. “I am sure, if anyone can survive this, it will be her. Now,” she turned to Eryn, walking over to her. “Take that to heart, because when people panic, they make mistakes and overlook things. If it were just you alone I would say do whatever you wish, act however brazenly you usually too-“ Eryn almost wanted to laugh, so Jaina had told the Magna about her worst personality traits. “But you are going to be accompanied by two other people, one is the heir to the throne. You have great power in your hands to which you must protect them both with, you must be mindful. You cannot afford the luxury of being careless with others’ lives.”

Pained stepped forward. “You’re scaring her-“

Aegwynn snorted, going to the stairs to head down. “Good,” she said, taking holding of the bannister firmly. “Fear will make her act with caution. Come now, Pained, we have a city to run.”

“If you need anything-“ Pained said, turning to her. “I should be going, I should be at her side. It is my job.”

Eryn sighed, taking her hands and squeezing them. “I will bring her back, I promise.”

“Make sure to bring yourself back, too,” Pained added, squeezing her hands in return, before stepping back. “I will do some digging, see if I can find anything. I’ll send anything I can to the king.”

“Thank you,” Eryn said, watching after her as she left. She found she was not eager to return, that it terrified her. Corel would be able to take care of himself, she had felt his immense power, but Anduin? She was aware he was not helpless, but Jaina had always commented on his pacifist nature. Corel couldn’t protect all three of them, at best he could protect himself and Anduin. Eryn would have to look after herself, and the prince—and, if someone had to, she would have to be the one to stay behind. If anyone would get Anduin back to Varian in one piece, it was going to be Corel, she knew that. If anyone could protect him best—it was not her. She was the disposable one of the three. 

Yet she was so sparked with ideas, with the anxiousness of adventure, that she didn’t think twice before stepping through the portal. It returned her straight into the map room. Varian was there, but he was alone. He’d tensed up when he’d sensed the portal but seeing her he’d relaxed up. “Good, you’re back. Anything?”

“They are going to look after the city,” she said, dropping her knapsack. “Pained is going to do some digging and send you any information she can.”

“Anything else?”

Eryn paused, coming over to the map. “Jaina’s advisor suggested we figure out what drives this cult,” she said. “If we find their end goal we can figure out most of the rest of their plan, and perhaps that will tell us where Jaina is.”

“But where do we start?”

“So far the four places we know the disappearances happen are here, in the Eastern Kingdoms,” she said, pointing to the four cities. “I wondered, earlier, if we had any times or dates. We can try and figure out from there how many people are involved.”

“All the ones in Stormwind and Ironforge have been on different dates until recently,” he said. “From the information Jaina gave me about the ones in Dalaran, a lot of them overlap. Corel can tell us more about the Silvermoon ones.”

Eryn let out a sigh. More questions. Answers leading to questions. Would it ever end? She ran her fingers through her hair. It was more than one person, but were they all mages? Truly? She found it hard to believe, and yet, the idea wasterrifying. Mages had so much power at their fingertips, if they so wanted, they could level entire cities. She had seen the destruction magic could cause, that many mages dedicated to this cult was bad news. 

“What’s the plan?”

Varian sighed, looking more worried than she’d ever seen someone look. “I do not want to send Anduin, but he will sit here and worry, and no doubt end up getting into trouble any way.” Eryn almost laughed. “The official story is Corel is here as an… Ambassador.”

“Isn’t that going to be obvious he’s not? If Reagent Lord Lor’Themar-“

“Yes, he said the same,” Varian paused. “So, we decided that since there were some contingents of Blood Elves wishing to break away from the horde, he would be acting as their ambassador. Seeing if they could fit in here, if we can accept them. Anduin is going to be showing him Alliance settlements as a gesture of good will. It accounts for why both are out there, Anduin taking on more responsibilities as heir to the throne is normal. It’s also a good cover story so if anyone does digging it seems real. You will be there officially as member of the royal council, and as someone who is able to protect them both.” Varian looked unsure of his hastily made ‘cover story’, she had to admit it was risky, but it was the best they had. “It is with great faith in you I am letting him go,” he said quietly after a time. “Jaina speaks highly of you, I entrust you to keep him safe.”

Eryn straightened up, remembering the previous conversation with Aegwynn. She felt burdened by it, but she couldn’t afford to feel pressured, she knew that. She had to get it together, to find her confidence and squash down any fear she may have felt for the oncoming storm. “I will bring him back safely, I promise you.”

Then, he smiled at her. “You are his age, no?”

“A few months younger, sir,” she nodded.

“Varian will do.”

She paused. “Sir?”

“You call Anduin by his name freely, probably at his insistence. I do not like titles, I care little for nobility and social customs in private. Maybe out there I am king, but in here I am just Varian.”

Eryn smiled. She understood why Jaina was fond of him. He was a good man, she realised. Probably the best of them all. It made her miss her father, made her wonder what her mother was like. She almost envied Anduin, even though he, too, did not know his mother, there were at least stories of Tiffin. There were pictures, and his father could tell him about her. Her father hadn’t said much, he’d been so torn with grief that it hurt him to say anything, and before he may have come to terms with her death, he’d died himself. She remembered sitting at his bed side, watching him slip away. She’d been young, too young to truly understand, but she’d left his cold bed side feeling older than she’d ever done, with a weight on her shoulders that she’d never been able to shake. He was hard working and honest, two qualities she prided herself on in his memory. 

Anduin returned soon after. He looked worried, she noted. She couldn’t blame him, she was terrified.“Everything is ready,” he said, putting his own knapsack down near Eryn’s. “We just need a destination. Corel is setting up horses-“ he turned to Eryn. “I assume you can ride?”

Eryn cleared her throat, blushing. “Yes, but it has been a… very long time since I have last done it.”

Varian nodded. “You will remember it quickly.” 

She chuckled, realising he wanted to be with his son in private. He was fearing for him, she knew, Anduin was all he had left in this world. If she were to return without the prince, it would break him, and in turn, it would break the alliance. Her heart pounded furiously. Varian was a good man, if only for his sake, she wasn’t going to let anything happen to Anduin. “I need to discuss a few things with Ser Corel,” she said, clearing her throat and picking up hers, and Anduin’s bags. “I’ll see to these.”

At the stables she was greeted with a very impressive, and somewhat terrifying brown stallion. He whinnied at Corel, though she had to admit, he seemed kinder than the other two horses. Mages had no real use for horses when they could teleport anywhere they needed to, so she couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden one for any long period of time. She rode them for short times back home when she had to do errands outside of the walls of Theramore and couldn’t justify the magic for the portal. Still—

“Not scared of horses, areyou?”

“A bit,” she admitted, levitating her bag to tie it firmly onto the horse, then doing the same with Anduin’s onto the grey horse which was stood passively to the side. Corel’s was the most intimidating of the three, bigger than the other two, and covered in more armour than either of them. “But no more scared than I am of anything else which could possibly kill me.”

He grunted, though she could tell it was amusement. “Do you have some thoughts on where we should start?”

“I think we should head to Westfall first,” she suggested. “Look into what’s going on there, perhaps it is dissent with the homeless there, maybe they have some connection to it.”

“Why would they want to involve the horde, though?”

“Maybe they don’t have any idea, if they are just being used,” Eryn sighed, shoulders falling. She heard footsteps, guards greeting Anduin. “This idea is bad, you know? The prince without royal guard.”

“Yet with a paladin and former mage, and the former apprentice of Jaina Proudmoore,” Corel replied. “People will assume him well protected. Posturing is going to be necessary for people to believe it, though.”

She grimaced.

“Westfall, then,” he said when Anduin came over. “After that?”

Anduin frowned, staring between them curiously. He wanted to help plan, but he had to admit, he felt out of his depth. Corel would be better versed in military tactics than he was since he took little to no interest in that area of study. Eryn was intelligent, he knew, yet he argued less experienced than even him, yet—

Yet now was not the time to get… jealous or upset by not being included. He had to prove himself, he knew that, and he was going to make sure to do it. He needed to prove to Corel, to Eryn, to his father that he could do this, that he was worthy of one day being King, he had to prove it to himself, because, he didn’t always feel it. This was his chance to grow into that part of himself, the part that was his father’s son. 

“Duskwood,” Anduin suggested. The pair turned to him. “It’s dark and creepy and has attracted mages of… not so honest dispositions before. If cultist were hidden somewhere nearby, I would assume there. It’s where I would go.”

Eryn nodded. “Duskwood it is then.”

She was glad for her horse being the smallest when it came to climbing upon him. If he was much higher, she was positive she wouldn’t have been able to find the saddle with any form of grace. She could almost sense the laughter as she fumbled her away through it and knew the only reason the other two were not in laughter already was the seriousness of the situation. There was no turning back once they left, she was aware of it. They would be on their own. Part of her longed to put the trip off for one day, to be able to sleep in her bed in the keep one more time, to enjoy a long, warm bath, with a book as if she had no care in the world, just one more time. She felt awful for it almost instantly, though. How on earth could she think about luxuries and comfort when her mentor’s life was on the line? When, perhaps, the life of a great many people was at steak?

She didn’t want to think about it, just how many people were counting on their success. She had to be calm, think rationally, if not for her sake, but so she could bring Anduin back. It had been a very long day, she decided, the gates of Stormwind turning into tiny pinpricks behind them. Anduin was staring back, a strange look on his face that she could decipher. Corel stared ahead, determination tucked into every part of his posture. She had to focus, she decided, snapping her mind to the task at hand. There was no space for thoughts of anything else—she, they, had to figure this out. 

It seemed a tall order, she decided, when even Jaina hadn’t been able to figure it out. Aegwynn had suggested finding out their goals first, but she was more curious about the powerful magic at their hands. What was it? Where had it come from? She sighed. “We need to make camp,” she said at length. “It’s getting dark, and we should find somewhere secluded that we can protect well and not be overheard.” They had to put their heads together, put out any ideas they had; anything was possible. They had to take everything into account.

If she had not woken early to go and buy some new quills that morning, she doubted she would have been in the current situation, and, Eryn wasn’t entirely sure whether she would have willed herself to ignore the two apprentices if she’d been given another chance. She was no hero, she’d never been involved in any real fights not from anything substantial, she’d barely been outside of the walls of Theramore or Dalaran, and now here she was, practically bodyguard to the heir to the throne of Stormwind. A ridiculous situation, she decided, and then, she found herself laughing. If, somehow, they managed to succeed, it was going to be a story absolutely no one would believe.


	7. CHAPTER SIX: ATTACKER

The sun was high in the summer sky above Westfall as three large horses crossed the bridge from Elwynn Forest and towards the Jansen Steed. There was nothing but silence, the place had long been since abandoned by people, even the homeless that lived within Westfall avoided the farm there, that had once been home to the Furlbrow’s, it was seen as cursed these days, with their murder at the hands of VanCleef’s daughter, they’d all been caught up in her scheme to bring the defias back, to seek revenge for her father’s murder. They still mostly blamed the king for their misfortunes, every time someone posh or rich came through Westfall they’d make their lives hell, usually leaving with less than they had arrived with, but not being aware of it at all.

If anyone had seen the three horses with their three riders, no one would have assumed anything about who they were, other than that they were important, and that two of them were armed, the third had a staff. Magic was enough to make anyone nervous. The horses were all lightly armoured, though the one which rode slightly in front was the most armoured of the three, and the biggest horse. His rider atop him wore heavy plate armour of gold and red which shone remarkably as the sun hit it. The riders face was covered with his helmet, and his long, red cloak billowed down behind him, sitting just above the top of his horse’s tail. He had a shield with the crest of Silvermoon on it and had two swords on him. One of them was smaller, at his side for a moments notice, unremarkable mostly, perhaps more of a dagger than a sword, yet still too big to be concealed. The other weapon was strapped to his other side, this one had a guard made of gold and formed into the shape of a phoenix. It was much grander than his other, and he kept his wrist resting on the hilt of that sword, the other holding onto the reigns of his horse.

The other two were less armoured. The other male wore mostly a mix of cloth and leather, though the other two riders knew there was plenty of chain there too. Just enough to protect him, not enough to hinder him. The colours were mostly a rich blue and a white, with some yellow here and there. The hood of his long, blue travelling cloak was pulled over his head, shading his face entirely from the sun. He was armed, too, yet he seemed oblivious to it. He had a sword, one which he was ignoring as it sat with his pack, strapped to the side of the horse. A dagger in his boot which any urchin would have been able to see instantly. He rode with a posture that said well-off, one that said he was the easiest target of the three.

The third wore cloth robes of light blue, with some embroidery on the arms in a golden thread. She, too, had the hood of her blue travelling cloak pulled up, but some of her hair spilled out over her shoulders, cascading down her chest. She was unarmed save her staff, but her horse was laden with most of the travelling supplies, which, had anyone been around who knew magic, would have noted she was supporting mostly with her powers. She was the most nervous of the three, looking around a lot more, her lips pursing out as she took in the state of the land around them.

It didn’t look like it had rained properly in years, and what was worse, was the destruction caused by the cataclysm was still rampant. She’d heard of the destruction around Azeroth, she’d seen the rising tides back home, heard of the fishermen talking about how Menethil Harbour across the ocean from Theramore was destroyed, entirely underwater and its people dead or displaced, yet they carried on as best they could. Eryn had yet to see all the destruction with her own eyes, and she knew Westfall was not even as badly hit as some places. 

She was not made for this weather. She was used to the murky, misty weather of Theramore. The constant rain, the cool ocean breezes. There was nothing like that here in Westfall. She could see the ocean and longed to take the horses through that route, but the three had agreed it was safest in Westfall to take the main road to Sentinel Hill and check in there. The journey so far had taken two days. They’d stopped the first night, camping in the forests of Elwynn, using the seclusion to discuss the situation and discuss any plans they might have. There had been arguments, mostly between Eryn and Corel who disagreed on what the most important thing to figure out first had been, and then there were disagreements on the safety of the prince. After some time, they had managed to agree that finding out what magic and powers this cult had was the priority. Corel had reasoned with her that even if they happened to stumble upon Jaina, or even one of the cultists, if they were taken by surprise, there would be little they could do. She’d reluctantly agreed, if only because it made her immensely curious. She had scoured the books she’d taken from Jaina’s personal library over and over, trying to find anything it could be. She’d picked Corel’s mind about ancient magics he knew, and even Anduin had mentioned some magic even he knew of that it may have been. It was all ruled out, however, and being wrong so many times had put Eryn into an awful mood.

She’d longed to carry straight onto Westfall, but they had to stick with their cover story of the prince escorting the Blood Elf Separatists ambassador around, so they’d stopped in Goldshire for a night. She was happy for the bed, even happier for the bath and for the warm food and the sweet wine, yet it made her nervous. She did not know these people, she did not know the town; for all they knew, there could have been cultists there. Corel seemed to feel the same, because he insisted they leave at sunrise. 

Anduin had spoken up again about his doubt of going through Westfall and had instead suggested Redridge. They could get to Duskwood through there and be closer to the town of Darkshire rather than if they went through Westfall. Corel had agreed with Eryn, however, that Westfall was the better choice. Not only was Redridge laden with Orcs being so close to Blackrock, but if there was any dissent against the king and the alliance, they would probably hide in Westfall. It had a history of those types of groups, and no one ever came here, even the Stormwind army stayed far away from it. Eryn couldn’t blame them, it was an awful heat.

“It’s so quiet,” Anduin spoke at length. “Shortly after Deathwing, my father told me this place was crawling with homeless, and with criminals. Now it’s just…” he frowned, leaning slightly forward.

“It’s dead,” Eryn murmured. “The air is dry, I’d be shocked if anything even grows here now,” she grimaced. The people here must have been in a horrible way, and, if they were going to stay for any period, she resolved herself to make as many mana biscuits as possible. It wasn’t the tastiest of food, or the fanciest, but they were filling and counted as water too. It was all they could spare, too, since they had no space to take food or water with them. Corel was able to conjure mana buns up, but he was so out of practice that he had just decided Eryn could make the biscuits with such a precision that it was best left to her. 

“This place has seen a lot of turmoil,” Anduin said quietly. 

Corel frowned. The concept of homeless people wasn’t something the Sin’Dorei really understood. That wasn’t to say they didn’t have any, there had been plenty of Elves left homeless, or without family following Arthas’ attack on the city, but they’d all worked together to rebuild, to look after one another. Of course, he knew it was impractical, there were more displaced humans than there had been survivors of that attack. It was not something he liked to think of, another reason why he did not enjoy the company of the Banshee queen. She reminded him of the time before Arthas, when their people had been prosperous, when they had kept to themselves and been happy with it. 

He remembered the first time he met Jaina, when she’d been apprenticed to Antonidas in Dalaran. He was never far from his best friend, the prince Kael’Thas Sunstrider, and he’d become quite smitten with a young human girl he’d seen in passing. He’d gone to try and get her attention. Corel had found it quite amusing, but Jaina had been bright and intelligent, a playfulness and an innocent bright in her eyes as she’d spoken with the prince. He had sensed her potential then. After Kael’Thas had left their people, after his betrayal of everything, he’d thought that he may perhaps never see her again. He’d started following a different path after the corruption of the Sunwell, and once it had been purified, bathed in holy light—he closed his eyes. He could not imagine arcane energy coursing through him as it had once done, even if he was positive he could cast the spells as he needed, he was reluctant to try. 

“I don’t think we should stay here long,” Corel said from up front. “We will travel through to Duskwood as quickly as we can.”

They hadn’t yet agreed where to go after Duskwood. Anduin argued that maybe going through to Redridge, and up through the gorge and burning steppes would be a good idea, but neither Corel nor Eryn had liked the idea of going so close to the Orcs, and Eryn disliked being so close to the black dragons, or what remained of them, even less. The ones back home were enough. They could also go south, towards Stranglethorn. Booty Bay was a neutral port, one they could maybe find leads in if they looked in the right places and asked the right people. After all, the attacks were on the Horde and the Alliance, Stranglethorn would make sense to travel through if they weren’t mages; there were direct links to Orgrimmar there, and even a ship which could take them across the sea to Ratchet.

That was what Eryn wanted to do. So far, they only knew of killings and disappearances within the Eastern Kingdoms; she wanted to look further into what was going on in Kalimdor. Pained was looking into Theramore, to see if anything had happened there, though if Jaina had been looking she’d not found anything herself. There was an issue of how they would get into the Horde cities, and even when Anduin had said he was friends with the leader of the Tauren, Corel and Eryn had quite rightly told him that it wouldn’t matter. She doubted the Night Elves would have let Corel in too, no matter how much Anduin insisted. She wondered if there was even any point in going there; they’d recently accepted the Highborne back into their society, but they were still extremely distrustful of mages. She doubted this type of magic related crime could be hidden so easily within Darnassus. 

Yet, it nagged at her and she didn’t know why.

“Can we stop for a bit?” she spoke up. “I can’t heal away the weariness from the saddle like you two can.”

Corel sighed, but stopped his horse any way. She was extremely good at not complaining and had ridden for a long time the day before until Anduin had noticed the blood on her hands from where she’d been trying to not fall off from exhaustion.

“Here,” Anduin said, sliding from his horse and taking her hands. Before she could protest he worked on healing her weariness away.

“You shouldn’t use it so much,” she sighed softly, flexing her fingers. She liked how warm he felt when he did that, how calm it made her feel. She’d never been one for religion, her father had been a deeply religious man growing up in what was now the Plaguelands. He’d lived close to Light’s Hope and had visited it a lot in his youth. She’d never much seen the point, she preferred the tangible, or the things she could grasp and understand with logic. The light seemed so abstract to her.

“It’s not like magic,” Corel sighed, leading his horse over to some shade. “He can’t just… use it up.”

“But he can still get tired,” she shot back, sighing softly. “It’s so hot here.”

“It’s not that hot,” Corel replied.

Anduin sighed. They had done little but argue since they’d left, it wasn’t out of dislike he guessed, it didn’t even seem to be out of disagreement for anything in particular. They just liked to challenge each other, not even just for authority. He wasn’t entirely sure he understood it, but it was starting to get tiring. “It always rains in Theramore,” he offered as a reply. “It’s much cooler there.”

“It’s not always raining,” she frowned, pulling her hood down and running her fingers through her hair. “It’s just much cooler, especially first thing in the morning when the fishermen vanish into the mist and fog across the water,” she sighed softly. She missed her home. 

“Eversong is always beautiful,” Corel said at length, looking thoughtful. “Golden forests as far as the eye can see. Our ships at the harbourage, the vineyards near that. Curse Arthas for spoiling my home.”

“Is it bad?” Eryn asked, moving closer to him. Anduin was seeing to their horses, making sure they were all in the shade, so they could also rest. When he returned, she quickly conjured up some mana biscuits, which he was very reluctant to take. He knew he couldn’t be picky, he couldn’t expect home cooked meals and warm soup every day, but…. “Jaina speaks little of it.”

Corel hummed in reply. “We call it the Dead Scar. You think it would heal now Arthas is dealt with, but…” he clenched his fists. “Every time I see it I get angry again, all from the start. What possessed him in the first place?”

“He thought he was doing the right thing,” she offered. “That it would save his people… that’s what I heard Highlord Tirion say to Jaina, anyway. That, at one point, he was just a prince who cared deeply about his people.”

Anduin shifted, feeling a little awkward. He knew very well about Arthas, he knew his story inside and out. It was something which scared him when he was younger but had since taken as a tale to remind himself to seek a diplomatic and peaceful solution where possible first. He would not become that, he would not become a monster. He wanted to protect people, to be fair, to be kind.

“That’s the thing,” Corel said, half grunting as he pulled his helmet off, letting his long, blonde hair free. Eryn felt jealous that his forehead was sweat free when she knew her hair was sticking to her face. She could have cooled herself down, but reasoned that she had to spare her mana, she had no idea when they might need it. “People always convince themselves they’re doing the right thing, that their ends justify their means,” he snorted. “Ridiculous.”

Eryn didn’t disagree, instead opting to enjoy the silence as she sat on a rock which was just partially covered by the shade. This place unnerved her, it was so quiet, so… dead. Surely, they should have seen even an urchin by now? She knew they were being watched, she could sense it. Her eyes opened, and she glanced around, trying to find potential threats anywhere. She remembered everything Pained had taught her, but she’d never really excelled in that area, and so found nothing. It unsettled her. She could see Corel looking out, surveying everything as she had done. Then, when his eyes narrowed, and his body tensed, she knew he’d seen something she had not.

Anduin was oblivious to anything going on, sharing the mana biscuits with the horse. He heard the ruffle of her robes as she stood quickly, but it was only when the whistle of an arrow came through the air did he turn, just in time to see Eryn move in front of him, and a wall of ice form between her and the arrow. Corel was on his feet, rushing towards the source.

“What-“

“Get down!” She cried, lowering her barrier to shoot a frostbolt towards the retreating figure.

Anduin couldn’t see the figure well, just that they were dressed in white from head to toe. They managed to dodge her spell, and she cursed loudly, forgetting the presence of the prince, and put her hands together in front of her. Anduin could feel the power of the magic as her hands glowed, felt rather in awe as he watched her, her hair flying around her face, being pushed back from the magnitude of her spell. He noted her lilac eyes seemed to glow softly. Her spell crackled, and then she shot purple missiles towards the figure.

Corel was closer to it now, raising his shield ready to throw at the figure, but he had stopped in his tracks when the man had deflected Eryn’s spell with a simple gesture. It was not some novice spell, he was positive had he been the intended target of the arcane power, he would have had a hard time guarding against it, but this little man was impervious to it. He stopped, turning to face the blood knight, his face covered entirely in a mask that held no expression. It unnerved him. Even his mouth was covered. The only part left uncovered was his left hand, which he noted was bleeding from one finger. When had he sustained that injury? Perhaps when he’d deflected her spell with that hand? Corel felt the power of another spell, but the man just laughed, and rather than deflecting it this time, instead threw down a smoke bomb and vanished. He sensed out as best he could, looking for any sign of the attacker--- but nothing.

Eryn muttered, feeling rather put out that she’d been so useless. She’d used so much of her magic in the one spell, and it still hadn’t been enough! Was that man linked to the cult? It worried her. If they had power enough to deflect that strong of a spell, who on earth could stop them, whatever their plan was?

“You saved me,” Anduin murmured. “If I had been paying attention….”

“An arrow is nothing,” she murmured. “If you had been paying attention, what could you have done? I would still have used my barrier to protect you.”

“I have shields, too,” he argued.

She smiled at him, yawning and stretching as she slumped to the ground. Corel was searching nearby, looking more and more annoyed when he found nothing at all. “I guess the cover story didn’t work.”

Anduin sighed. “How, though? Does that mean we should turn around?”

“No,” Corel said. “We don’t know for sure he’s linked with this cult, but even if he is, we don’t know that they know. He could just have attacked you like anyone else could have, he went for you and not me or Eryn. He knew you, not either of us.”

“You are the prince,” Eryn countered. “There’s going to be multiple people trying to kill you or kidnap you.”

“That is… reassuring,” he said nervously.

“Don’t worry,” she said happily. “I can be your meat shield. And if all else fails, we can both stand behind Corel here.”

Anduin didn’t like that. He knew she was joking, but he wanted to be of use too. He didn’t want to have to rely on them, have her protect him again. He wasn’t weak, he knew that, but his strengths lay elsewhere. What could he do in this situation?

“Are you tired?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured, helping herself to some of the mana biscuit Corel offered her. “I just used too much magic in the second spell.”

“Your eyes were glowing,” Anduin murmured. 

“It was a very powerful spell,” Corel answered, kneeling in front of her to check on her. “I am surprised you are still conscious after using so much mana. Your body is so small, how do you have that inside of you?” He stared at her, a strange look upon his face which Eryn wasn’t entirely sure how to read. Was it curiosity? Or was he scared of her? “Your body should have shown physical strain with that force.”

“Jaina always said that when I was little,” she replied. “I used to use too much magic without thinking, I had issues with control. Magic was just… something I instinctively used. She was always so shocked when I never caused myself harm with it. She reckons my eyes are lilac because of the arcane build up in my body.”

Corel hummed, watching her. “That could be the case.” It reminded him of how his peoples eyes had turned green from addiction to fel magic, maybe it was a similar thing, yet he was quite glad her eyes didn’t glow, at least, not constantly. He didn’t think a powerful mage with glowing purple eyes would do anything to reassure other people that mages were not a threat to them. He stood up eventually, moving to the horses to untie them. “I want to leave this area quickly, still. Do you think you can ride to Duskwood today?”

“Yes,” She said, pushing herself up.

Anduin was doubtful she was telling the truth, but she didn’t complain at all. He wanted to protest for her, that they should stay if she needed, that he could protect himself if something else where to happen. Yet, he noticed the look on her face as she pulled her hood up. It was a split second, but he saw it, the fear. What was she scared of? Everything, he imagined. He didn’t fully understand it, but she must have been shaken up at how easily the would-be assassin had dealt with her spell, and she was already worried about everything else, fearful for Jaina. She was probably anxious to get out of Westfall, out of the heat, and out of the open, and so, he didn’t raise his protests.

** ***** **

“I sent the harlequin after the prince,” a high-pitched voice said, echoing off the dark chamber of the windowless room. Only one candle was lit, but it was low and darker than ever. The only hint of another person was the shuffling of papers.

“Good,” a deep voice replied. “This couldn’t have turned out better, he leaves the city only attended byhas-been paladin, and a nobody mage fresh out of an apprenticeship,” he chuckled. “Once he’s dead, the death will be made public, and every mage in the area is going to be implicated.”

The high-pitched voice laughed softly in return. “The king will go mad with grief,” she said, her hand playing with the low flame of the candle. The small flame licked at her skin, but she did not flinch nor move it away. “Throw restrictions onto the mages, the ones who remain which doubt us will all but beg us to teach them, beg us to lead them in taking control,” She groaned loudly. “I want it to happen now, I need the chaos.”

“Now, now, my dear, we’ve waited so long already.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But it’s so close, the chaos. It’s hard to wait.”

The deep voice chuckled.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you’re the king?” she asked, her hands pausing over the flame. When it spat at her, she knocked the thing over, not caring if the fire spread to the papers. “Stupid thing.”

The other stranger sighed, picking it up before more damage could be done. She was always so impulsive, always so quick to anger. If anyone was going to cause the plan to fail, it would be her. It was why he kept her so close, why he kept an eye on her. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “We still need to take control of the horde for the plan to be fully complete.”

“They have it under control,” she murmured. “The new source is proving worthwhile.”

He chuckled again, this time more sinister. He stood up from where he’d been sat and put the candle down firmly, putting it out with his fingers. Neither figure was shocked at the sudden darkness in the room, yet he heard his companion shudder when his red eyes set on her, their soft glow standing out in the darkness. “Perhaps it is time I went and saw Lady Proudmoore myself.


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN: BURNING HEART

The dark forests of Duskwood could not have been more different from the dry-air of Westfall unless it had been covered in snow. The trees created a thick canopy above the winding paths, allowing almost no light from above to filter down. It added to the already creepy atmosphere, and the chill in the air caused Eryn to tighten her travelling cloak around her. A small light hovered above them, one she’d conjured up, so she could continue to read her book. The pathways were narrow, so they were riding in single file, Corel at the front and Anduin sandwiched between them. There had been no more attacks since they’d entered Westfall, and when Eryn had questioned Gryan Stoutmantle of Sentinel Hill about the assassin in white, he’d simply said he’d never seen anyone like that. Westfall had resulted in nothing but another question. Who was the masked man? And what had been his goal?

The groans of nearby undead from the cemetery caught Eryn’s ears and she shuddered, snapping her book shut. She couldn’t concentrate there, there was so much movement, every time a bush rustled she would tense up, ready to throw a spell forward. A few times she’d almost set a poor fox or cat on fire.

She was not fond of the undead. She’d seen them once in Northrend, when she’d accompanied Jaina on an extended trip shortly after the fall of Arthas. Highlord Tirion had requested her presence, and since she’d been in the middle of teaching Eryn something important, she’d instead taken her along. It had been odd to step outside of Dalaran, odder still to be in the halls of Icecrown Citadel. Outside, the undead still roamed, but were being dealt with by Paladins and Knights of the Ebon Blade. Eryn had wanted to get closer, overly curious, but the smell was awful. Plus, necromancy just seemed so… wrong.

Corel didn’t much care for the undead, either. Though, he was more used to the sounds of them, so they did not bother him as much. He wondered why no one did anything, but then he thought back to home, to the Ghostlands neighbouring Eversong and his heart fell. They had tried so much to purge the land, to clean it from the taint which covered it, but nothing worked. He had heard that the Paladins and the Druids had a few breakthroughs in their curing of the Western-most plaguelands, but recovery was slow, and there were not enough to spare to heal all places at once. Thus, his beloved home, and he supposed this dingy little forest were left behind, all but forgotten. Necromancy disgusted him. Liadrin was very accepting and trusting of the forsaken, even more so of the Death Knight’s who had broken free of the Lich King’s grasp, but Corel didn’t like any of them. They were reminders of what the darkest forms of forbidden magic could do. His own teacher had experimented with necromancy but had vanished many years before Kel’Thuzad’s experiments succeeded. He never found out what became of him, but he assumed that he perished somewhere, his experiments failed. Good riddance, he always thought. 

The path opened and Anduin nudged his horse to ride side by side with the Blood Elf. While it was true he did not go outside of Stormwind or the Exodar much, since his father was far too protective, he still knew in passing what his lands were like. He often questioned adventurers when they would venture into Stormwind Keep picking up a new assignment, or to hand in a bounty, or even to hand in personal favours to the king, or to Genn, or to anyone else at court. Still, seeing was different. He longed to stay, help the undead left behind, in fact his hands twitched to stop his horse and head towards the grave-site. He could sense something darker lurking in there, positive the paladin felt it too, but he doubted it was what they were hunting. It felt too familiar for it to be so unknown. 

“Do you think the Sin’Dorei would ever join the Alliance formally?” he asked quietly.

Corel glanced at him, then back at the mage who was occupying herself writing down in a journal she’d brought with her. She did it frequently, he hadn’t asked what she wrote, he supposed it wasn’t his place to ask. If she kept a diary, it was her own business. Or, maybe she was writing down ideas to elaborate on later. Still, he worried. She’d not had a proper rest since the attack, and he was expecting another one soon. It would be foolish of a good assassin to not attack while knowing their prey was already weakened. She would be exhausted, unable to use spells of the magnitude she had before, and these narrow pathways made it worse. He hoped deeply they would come upon the town soon, that it would open, and at least be brighter. He had no issues seeing in the dim light, yet Eryn and Anduin were different. Her light globe helped, but it only illuminated directly in front of her. If anything was hidden in the trees and bushes further out, he would be the only one who could see.

The elf considered Anduin’s question, taking the time to formulate his answer. Anduin was too… nice. He wondered if he had it in him to be king, or rather, to be a good king. He had respect for Varian, he was a great warrior and he knew that sometimes fighting was inevitable. Corel knew he had a bad habit of comparing all leaders to their former prince, including Lor’Themar, who he deemed unworthy of his position. They had been friends, once, too. But he had not agreed with the decision to join the horde one bit, he did not like Lor’Themar’s familiarity with Sylvanas, either. Still, Thrall had been a good warchief, and for a time he had no quarrels about the choice. He lived with it, even if he did not like it.

But Garrosh was another story, one which even Lor’Themar did not seem to endorse. There was no honour in following a blood thirsty Orc. He wanted war, he wanted his people to be the very best they could be, and while Corel felt perhaps that was an admirable goal, Garrosh was not the leader of the Orcs, he was the leader of the Horde. He had to consider every single race under his command, yet he seldom did, and it was getting worse. 

“Garrosh is not popular amongst my people,” he spoke evenly. “He is… unfair to most races. There is a growing dissent, not even from just my people. But, my people may be the only ones willing to formally break off from the horde.”

“Is it that bad? My father speaks little of Garrosh around me. I met Thrall, I like him. He is an honourable person,” Anduin said. “I did not think Thrall would entrust the horde to someone who would… destroy it.”

“Neither did I,” Corel said bitterly.

Eryn sighed. “Garrosh is the worst thing to happen to the horde in a long time, even Jaina struggles to accept him,” she said from behind them. Anduin glanced back. She had her head down, eyes focused on her journal, but he was almost positive she wasn’t seeing the pages. “The Orcs encroach into Dustwallow more and more, the fighting in the Barrens gets worse as days go. I’ve seen more casualties in the past months than I had after Deathwing attacked,” she sighed, scowling deeply. “I have met Thrall, I respect him a great deal.”

“Have you met Garrosh?” The prince asked.

“No, I don’t suppose he’d let me live if I had,” she said simply. “He has no notions for peace, Anduin. He seeks war, dominance for his people. Jaina has tried pleading with Thrall to return to his post of warchief to avert the course that Garrosh has set the horde on, but he won’t listen. He doesn’t see it.”

“Maybe he can be reasoned with.”

Eryn sighed. She wanted to believe that, she truly did, but Garrosh only had one thing in mind. At least there was one good thing from it, and it was that they could at least rule out Garrosh for being behind the attacks. He wouldn’t trust a human to do it, he would do it himself or get an Orc to. And, she doubted he would use magic and assassinations. Garrosh was a warrior, he believed in the true Orcish ways, not deception and magic. 

Corel sighed, kicking his horse so he would go down a lane. He’d found a small clearing that seemed well enough protected. There were no signs of undead, and it was secluded enough that they would hear anyone coming before they did. The horses would give them away, but it was safer than anywhere else. He noted how tired Eryn looked, how her eyes closed for long periods of time. “We’re going to stay here and head to the town tomorrow.”

Anduin paused. “Are you sure?”

Corel motioned his head towards the girl, and without saying much else, got down from his horse and worked on getting the bedrolls out. There was no space for a tent, but there was space for them to sleep, and space enough for a small fire. “I think we also may need to discuss that we could be walking into a trap,” he said quietly.

The two humans paused, the female leading her horse over to a spot where he could rest. A trap? She supposed that was likely, maybe they were being herded? In which case, they would have expected them to go to Stranglethorn, no? Maybe Anduin’s idea to head up through Redridge was a good idea. There was no place else they could go. It was one way or the other, unless they headed back through Stormwind and took the tram to Ironforge, but that would be at least another five days journey on top of what they had left to reach Darkshire. 

The three of them had decided not to use portals for travel. Eryn had little confidence in her ability to summon them to anywhere apart from Dalaran and Theramore, and when she had stated her portals were often rather unstable, and that once she’d ended up some place in Feralas when she’d been trying to get to Tanaris, Corel and Anduin had both lost confidence in those ideas. She had more confidence in teleporting herself, but she couldn’t leave them behind. She busied herself afterwards with lighting a small fire, before sitting on her bedroll and sighing softly. The fire did little to take the chill from the gloomy air.

“There could be numerous cultists already in the town, the assassin could also be there waiting for you-“ he looked at Anduin. “We still don’t know his motives. If possible, we should capture him and question him.”

Anduin looked shocked. He knew that was the most sensible course, but… questioning him, would that mean some form of torture? He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be involved in that. He sighed deeply, wondering if he were not too placid for this, if perhaps he should have let Corel and Eryn handle it alone.

“I don’t like that,” Eryn said, surprising him. “Leaving him alive is a risk. We don’t know what powers they have.”

“We need information.”

“I agree,” she sighed. “But from someone weaker, someone who we can predict easier. I don’t think this assassin-“ she broke off when the bushes rustled. Corel’s hand went to his sword but sighed deeply when a fox chirped and rushed past them. 

“We should sleep,” Corel said. “I’ll take the first watch. The sooner we get out of here, the better. I don’t like this place, it feels wrong.”

“I agree,” Eryn said, giving him a rueful smile.

Sleep found Eryn first, her body and mind exhausted from the day. She wanted to bounce ideas off him, try and figure everything out with him, but she was too tired to even think of engaging in intellectual sparring. Anduin, however, was restless. He lay down, but sleep seemed to elude him. There was so much on his mind, these two people with him were more capable than him at this. Eryn was younger than him, yet she’d not hesitated at all. Why? He wondered. What was it which drove her? Where did she get her conviction from? She seemed so sure of herself. She was assertive, if not a bit awkward at times. She seemed to value honesty, even if she did not like the honest answer, and he respected that. Corel seemed to as well. He had to admit, he felt envious of the way the pair of them would talk with each other. He was intelligent, too, he knew it, but he found it hard to keep up especially when their conversations meandered into the territory of magic. He also wondered if they didn’t perhaps resent his presence with them. There was an assassin hunting them now, probably because he was the prince. Wouldn’t their job be easier without him being so obvious? Then there was his hesitancy in fighting back. Did they resent him for that, at least? Having to protect him?

Anduin rolled over, staring at the strong back and broad shoulders of the paladin as he watched out. The fire illuminated his armour, making patterns and his own reflection dance in the gold plate. Eryn was asleep, snoring and speaking softly to herself, something he found quite endearing. She was so well put together when she was awake, though every now and then, true glimpses of the over excitable girl with the child-like curiosity and wonder would break through, the girl he’d first spoken with in the library all those weeks ago. All her properness and put-togetherness vanished when she was asleep. She was small, he noted. Probably physically weaker than him, with little if any training in hand to hand combat. He didn’t like fighting, but he at least knew how to use a bow, how to use throwing knives. He even knew how to use his sword, even if he disliked it and wasn’t very good at it. And, then there was holy magic. Anduin preferred mostly to use it to heal, to protect, but he knew he could use it to harm, too, if he had to. 

There would be another attack, of that he had no doubts. As he felt his eyes grow heavy in the dark, he resolved himself to fight back the next time. To protect Eryn as much as she had protected him, to support Corel and not let him do all the work. He was going to prove to them, and to his own self, that he belonged with them, that he wasn’t the weak link. 

It seemed no time had passed when someone shook his shoulder gently. Anduin’s eyes flew open and he gasped, sitting up quickly. Eryn pulled her hand back, laughing softly. Her hair was a mess, he noted, but she’d changed her clothes. She wore leggings and a white blouse under a black travelling cloak now. He was unaccustomed to seeing mages out of robes, but she looked more comfortable in them. Corel hadn’t changed at all.

“It’s morning.”

“What about my watch?” Anduin frowned.

Eryn sighed, picking through her messy hair and trying to flatten it as best she could. “I took over from Corel some time ago, but he couldn’t sleep. Something isn’t right here, Anduin. I… he and I, we can both sense something stirring in the darkness. Neither of us like it.”

Anduin’s stomach tightened. He couldn’t feel anything. He thought back to the graveyard, of the unsettling feeling there, but he knew Eryn would not have felt that. That the disturbance there had been down to the undead, down to whatever malignant forces reanimated the dead there. This was something he couldn’t feel, but they could. Magic.

“And we are just going to walk into town?”

Corel stared at them both, a grim look on his face. He didn’t seem to happy about it, but he was getting tired of the questions with no answers, of the chase with no prey. He wanted progress, and he was going to get it one way or another. “The best way to deal with a trap is to spring it.”

“We’re prepared,” Eryn said, pulling her slippers on. “I think we should leave the horses outside of town,” she said firmly, looking at Corel. “We don’t want them to get spooked when fighting breaks out.”

“When,” Anduin sighed. He hoped for an if, but he didn’t think it was a reasonable hope. It was hard for him to understand, why people would conspire against his father, against the alliance as a whole. The very people his father worked hard, fought to protect—Darkshire had seen some bad times, that much was true, but his father always sent adventurers in that direction when he could spare them. There was always help. It unsettled him, to think the people of the town could be involved in something so… so dark, so dubious in nature. He supposed this was just the nature of the real wold, a cold, hard, wake up to it. “Doesn’t it bother you?” He asked Eryn, pulling his horse along side hers. “The fact there are cultists ingrained within ordinary people.”

“No,” she said simply. “It’s human nature. To believe that everyone is inherently good is…” She noticed him flinch and she chuckled. Of course, he was that type of person, to believe that everyone was good by default. “I do not think people are inherently evil, nor are they good. They’re just… there,” she squinted ahead, trying to word her sentiment better, trying not to offend his sweet nature. “The choices they make, the actions they take… that’s what denote them. These people… We don’t know what they’re up to, but we know they’ve been involved in killings and disappearances.” She sighed. “We had deserters, in Theramore. They were angry at Jaina for her father’s death, they wanted to rebel against her, they got into the guards and sowed dissent everywhere they could. I watched as SI:7 helped Jaina and a traveller uncover it, I pleaded for mercy to be shown to them.”

“And was it?”

“No,” Eryn said simply. “They had killed people.”

“So that justifies their death in return?”

“No, of course not,” she replied quickly, looking at him sheepishly. “Killing should always be the last result, but… Anduin, the point is sometimes it’s the only choice.”

Anduin shook his head, his blonde hair falling about his face. It had grown longer recently, he’d have to cut it when he returned home. He still had a boyish look about him, and longer hair didn’t suit him as well as it did his father. In fact, there were a lot of things which suited his father better. He felt bitterly about that. “I refuse to believe that,” he said at length. “There is always a peaceful solution.”

Eryn gave him a small smile but said nothing on it. She truly wanted to believe his sentiment, but she also knew that before he saw Stormwind again, he was going to have to learn the hard truth of the world. Things weren’t divided into good people and bad people, nor was it separated into people that could be reasoned with and those that couldn’t. Corel rode slightly ahead, but she noticed his grimace. 

The chill in the air grew thicker as they neared Darkshire. Corel’s hand was already on the hilt of his sword, gripping the pommel tightly. Anduin moved to ride closer to him, Eryn ready with her protective barriers and snaring spells. Surely the town shouldn’t have been so… empty? So still? They brought their horses to a pause at the old fountain in the middle of the town square. An owl hooted somewhere nearby, and then she noticed a shadow pass in the window at the top of the inn. 

And then there was action everywhere. 

All three of them quickly dismounted from their horses, sending them packing off back down the road away from the fighting. Eryn wasn’t sure what she was seeing—mages, fireballs, but they were so red and so intense they shot through her barrier like nothing. She moved closer to Anduin when she noticed his barriers were having better luck against the spells.

Corel was off to the side, the assassin in white was with him. She wanted to watch, positive that it would be a riveting fight, but she focused instead on the two figures in front of her. She glanced at Anduin, wanting to make sure he was okay, and sighed softly, relieved, when he used the light to blind a few opponents. Even if he wouldn’t kill, at least he was willing to incapacitate. She quickly encased his few opponents in ice, then turned to her own as Anduin turned to others.

These people were odd, she noted. There was the strangest smell in the air too, metallic, not unfamiliar, but not pleasant either. It was nothing on Ami’s Blueberry pastries which she longed for right then. She had duelled with Jaina during her tutelage, dulled with other mages during her stays in Dalaran, but they were always mediated and controlled. This was more. They were all aiming to kill, to injure severely. 

One of the robed figures shot a fireball at her which she barely missed. 

And then they were shooting spells at each other, no stopping at all.

Anduin focused on his own targets. They seemed weaker to his magic than he had thought they would be, they were blinded or incapacitated easily. He’d even managed to knock a few out with his spells, and his shield seemed to hold up against their magic. Anduin turned in time to see Eryn’s own barrier fall when hit with a fireball and expelled his own magic towards her. She blinked in surprise when the next fireball hit her, but didn’t harm her, and glanced over at him with a thankful smile.

He’d lost sight of Corel, but he could hear the sounds of a sword, of daggers on plate armour. 

The fighting was endless. Some time after he found himself backed up against the mage, he could hear her panting, feel her weariness, and reached behind to take her hand, sending the light into her, healing her wounds as best he could. But he, too, was beginning to feel tired. “There’s no end.”

“There must be a portal somewhere,” she hissed out. “We have to find it… close it.”

He looked back at her. “That’s crazy.”

“I have an idea,” she said grimly. “Get ready to run.”

He wanted to stop her, to tell her not to do it, but before he could, her barrier fell. It was strange, the stillness that came into the air before it froze over. Large shards of ice shot down, freezing winds curled around their enemies. Most of them froze, but it exhausted her to do it. Those that remained, he quickly bound.

“This way!” she said weakly, hurrying towards the inn. He noted a sword in her hand, the smaller one of Corel’s. When had she gotten that, he wondered. Did she even know how to use it? She was holding it weirdly, like it was too heavy, too big for her. He doubted she knew. It was a sign, he knew, that she was too tired to use much more magic. They were all in danger. “I can sense it,” she said quietly, rushing upstairs. Her lilac eyes were glowing softly, he noted, a strange thrum of magic hung in the air, one which even he could sense.

Anduin was not entirely prepared for the sight, and he supposed Eryn wasn’t either, because she gasped as they entered the room. There were two bodies on the floor, blood pouring from wounds on their arms. Anduin was positive their deaths had been slow, painful, the looks on their faces said it all. Pain, horror, all mixed into one terrified expression. Strange patterns were painted on the walls in red—it took him a few moments to realise it was blood. In the centre of the room stood a man. His arms were painted in the same strange runes, and he was chanting an odd spell Eryn had never heard before, but she’d been right in suspecting there was a portal. And he was the one channelling it.

Part of her wanted to go through it. Perhaps Jaina was on the other side, perhaps all their answers were, but she thought of Corel and of Anduin, and how if they didn’t stop this man, they would all die. Her stomach knotted up.

First one spell, then another. They traded like this for a while. She may have been exhausted, but he was too. She noted the strange red glint to his eyes, and then—he bit down on his thumb. A strange sense of gross wonder enthralled her as she sensed him grow stronger again, and then horror when she realised. She cold not stop the next spell, it hit her with full force and sent her against the wall.

“Eryn!”

“Don’t worry,” the man said, turning to the prince. “She won’t be killed, she will be an excellent source of power for us.”

Anduin backed up as he advanced. What could he do against him? He tried binding him, but this one was stronger than those outside. Eryn’s hand twitched and he frowned. He had to bide time for her to come up with something, time for Corel to return—time for anything to happen. “A source of power for what?”

He laughed deeply. “There is power in blood, young one. Life essence itself is powerful indeed, but when twisted into arcane energy?” He hissed out the answer, closing his eyes and focusing on the power running through his veins. Anduin noted the satisfaction on his face and felt sick. “We call it blood magic, it is just normal magic but… but oh so stronger! A normal spell, but with twice the power behind it, and that’s just for someone like me.”

The prince gulped.

“There are those above me, they have power beyond imagination!”

“And Jaina? She is being-“

He chuckled. “You are a curious lad, such a shame our orders were to kill you,” he sighed deeply, looking around the room, and then to his horror, shot a fireball at the walls. The fire built quick. He intended to kill himself in the process? What was he thinking?! “Your death is going to put everything into motion.”

Anduin was now backed up against the wall, trying desperately to think of some way out of this. He wanted to find more information—this man was obviously proud of what they were doing. Obviously confident they would succeed, so he was happy to tell them what he had so far. He coughed, choking when the smoke grew. They had to get out of there, and quickly.

He heard a groan and he looked up in time to see Eryn standing, the sword in her hand. Then a grim realisation on his face as she lunged forward.

Corel was bruised and bloody as he made his way back to the town. He could see the smoke already and worried about the other two. He’d been foolhardy, chasing off after the Harlequin to try and capture him. He’d had the strangest form of magic, and the result had been more like before. He’d gotten away once he’d noticed the fire, but Corel had gotten a few good hits in. 

As he came back to the town, he was greeted by the oddest site. Lots of empty, discarded robes. Signs of a blizzard spell—and, to his relief, Anduin, and on his back, Eryn. She was covered in blood and he wondered if it was her own, but she wasn’t focusing on anything. To his shock she was crying. Anduin was saying something to her, looking around frantically—“Corel!” He said in relief, rushing over as best he could to the blood elf. Corel noted he had a cut on his lip and forehead, that some of his clothes were singed, but he seemed the best of the three.

“Eryn-“

“She’s okay, we need to get away from here.”

Corel looked around quickly, finding the horses and leading Anduin over. No one seemed to be coming back for them, but he wanted to put as much distance between them and this god forsaken place as he could, and as soon as possible. “What happened?”

Anduin frowned. Eryn was unresponsive to either of them, just clinging to him, muttering to herself about the blood on her hands. “She… there was this guy—he… he said they were using blood magic, at least that’s what they call it,” he said, thanking Corel when he helped Eryn onto his horse. He climbed behind her, making sure she was secure in front of him. Corel took hold of her horse’s reigns, pulling it along as they went off as fast as they could. The horses were nervous, the fire and fighting had spooked them. “He was powering a portal, and they were fighting but he over powered her,” Anduin frowned, looking down at her. He felt as though he should have done something more, so she wasn’t in the situation she’d been in. “She killed him, she shoved the sword right through him.”

Corel inhaled. “She’s never killed someone before.”

Anduin faltered. He hadn’t thought of that, it hadn’t dawned on him at all—his heart beat significantly. She was sobbing—they had to stop, he had to help her, but he, too, wanted to get far away. He wanted to be home, to be in his own bed. He wanted Eryn safe within the keep. There was a river nearby, maybe they could stop near it, wash off the blood from her. Yet, as they pushed their horses along the dark, winding paths, Anduin was relieved to find rain falling through the trees. The fire would be seen from the city with how big it was, would his father send people? Would there be any sign they were involved in it? Would his father assume him hurt? Or worse, taken?

No. He couldn’t think like that. He had to focus on what they were doing, where they were going now. 

“The guy,” Anduin said loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of the hooves and the rain. “He said my death… that it would put everything into motion.”

Corel said something sharply, something Anduin was positive wasn’t a polite word he would have ever said around his father. Things were just getting worse. “We’re heading to Stranglethorn,” he said. “We will find somewhere there to camp, wash her up-“ he glanced over at the girl. This was not the time for her to be having a break down, yet, she’d taken a life and was covered in the victim’s blood. She was young, unprepared for this. They both were. Neither of them should be involved in this. “We will figure the rest out when she’s….”

Anduin nodded, his arms holding onto the reigns tighter. She was enclosed within them, so small and cold he noted. She’d lost her travelling cloak getting out of the fire, and so had he. He wanted to pull over, fish another one from their packs, but there was no time. The rain was causing his hair to stick to his face, but it was nothing compared to the state of hers. The tears and rain were mixing together, her eyes were red, but he just stared down at her hands. He felt as though he should say something to her, words to encourage her, or reassure her, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. 

This whole thing was a mess. Anduin knew he’d not signed up for an easy task, and he was positive Eryn had known it too, but before this, it had been so light-hearted. Everything had changed now, and he was positive the worst hadn’t even happened yet. 


	9. CHAPTER EIGHT: FAMILY & FRIENDS

The tropical forests of Stranglethorn posed a few challenges for the three travellers. For instance, it was much warmer. Corel had been forced to take off some of his armour, and even Anduin found himself warm in his leather and cloth. Eryn remained very quiet, now riding on her own horse. She’d said barely two words, and while Anduin had tried to talk to her, Corel had urged him to let her come around herself. She was trying to process it, taking a person’s life, in such an intimate way changed a person. Despite her silence, Anduin had noticed she’d taken to wearing thinner clothes. She stuck with pants and various blouses. Her travelling cloak stayed though, hood pulled up. He always noticed the dark circles, the horrified look on her face whenever she lowered it. 

In addition to the heat, the beasts posed a problem for camping. They’d wanted to find a place easily defensible, yet hidden, and close to water. They’d found one, near some old Troll ruins, and while it was mostly safe, a few panthers and tigers kept coming to investigate. It was nothing they couldn’t handle, but they needed to stay hidden. It had been three days since Darkshire and there was no sign of the mages, or of anyone else for that matter. Anduin was positive word would have gotten back to his father, but he saw no signs of any Stormwind guards making patrols that far down. He went to check the border into Darkshire every now and then, Corel had suggested keeping a watch to see if they were being followed. 

It was the evening of the third day when Corel had enough of Eryn’s distance. She’d taken a walk along the coast to bottle some water from the ocean and to purify it with a spell. He knew as well as she did that it would have been easier, and quicker, for her to conjure some fresh water up instead. Anduin was not back from watching the border yet, so he decided that he would shake her out of it now, before he returned.

“Eryn,” he said firmly. “I understand it was a hard thing that you did, but you need to snap out of it.” He sighed deeply. “You need to talk about what happened, not just killing the man, but what you felt as a mage. Anduin could only describe so much, and we need to discuss how Anduin’s magic seemed more effective than anything else.”

“I don’t-“

“You don’t want to?” he asked, standing up. “You think he’s going to be the last person to die before this is over? That he’s the last man you will kill? He would have killed you and Anduin, or worse, had you not done it. You can’t be gentle and mope over every death. This is the real world.” When he didn’t reply he knelt in front of her. “Eryn, we need you. We need to figure out what’s going on, so we can get Jaina and head back. This is too serious for the three of us to handle.”

Eryn bit her lip, he could make out her lilac eyes peering from beneath her hood, and then he heard a sniff. She held her hands out in front of her, they shook slightly. “It feels like there’s blood on my hands… that won’t come off.”

Corel stared at her sadly. He’d seen this in new Blood Knight’s before, when they’d taken a life for the first time and gone into shock and grief themselves. They either dealt with it and came out stronger, or it ruined them. He hoped Eryn was the first, she was a bright girl, intelligent and warm, but he didn’t think she was soft. He respected her, she never complained about her life, she didn’t complain at all. She was open handed and open hearted, seeming to truly want to help anyone she found who needed it. It reminded him of Jaina, when she was younger. He’d seen the innocence in her, and he’d seen it grow and change her into a formidable woman. “Here,” he said at length, taking her hands and leading her to the waters edge. His sensitive ears picked up on the sound of a horse, one, with a rider whose soft breathing he already recognised. Slowly, he poured water from the ocean onto her hands and rubbed gently. “They seem pretty clean to me,” he said, pulling her hood down. “Wash your face and eat something. You’ll feel better.”

He squeezed her shoulder, leaving to head back to the camp. Anduin was there already, eyes lingering on her and where he had been. He didn’t seem as shaken up as she did, sure he’d been in shock at first, but he took it in his stride. Corel reasoned that perhaps that was because he hadn’t killed the man himself, and he reasoned that Anduin had seen a lot of terrible things since he was a child. It would take a lot to truly shake him up. 

“How is she?”

“She will come around,” Corel sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Listen,” Anduin frowned. “I don’t think we should go through booty bay.”

“Why?” he looked up at the prince, watching him carefully as he sat down. 

Anduin hesitated. He felt strange, he had since he’d seen Corel and Eryn together at the waters edge. He’d had no idea what they were saying, but it looked strangely intimate. He supposed it made sense if they started to develop feelings for each other, and he was glad… right? He should be. Yet it didn’t sit right. He shifted, glancing over at her. She was splashing water onto her face, sitting on her knees and looking up at the darkening sky. Jaina would know what to do, not just about her melancholy, but about the strange feelings. Maybe his father would know too. His stomach clenched. He deeply missed home. They’d spent so many years apart, and then more with him studying under Velen. It seemed they had just gotten each other back, only for this to happen. It just didn’t seem right. Would there ever be peace?

He hoped beyond hope there would be, he believed with every part of his body it was possible. 

“There’s still no one, not even extra patrols, that’s odd,” Anduin said firmly. “Maybe they’re not following us because they’re waiting for us.”

“If we don’t head there, they’ll realise we headed back North,” Corel sighed. 

“I don’t really want another Darkshire,” Anduin sighed deeply. “One town in flames, people dead… I think we should head elsewhere.”

“Where else can we go?”

“Theramore.”

Both men looked up at the female’s voice. Anduin almost stood, smiling slightly. “H-here, sit down!”

Eryn gave him a small smile, taking the spot he offered to her. She looked tired, he noted. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping, but whatever Corel had said to her seemed to have helped. His stomach clenched, a strange monster stirring within. What had he said? And why hadn’t Anduin said it himself? He liked to help people, but he couldn’t help her—and he classed her as one of his friends, perhaps one of his closest. It was true that she’d seen a lot more than most people saw of him, there was little privacy in travelling together like this, after all. Plus, he found it difficult to be… Prince Anduin Llane Wrynn of Stormwind around her. He preferred being _just_ Anduin. 

“Anduin is right,” Eryn said, eyes lingering on the blood elf. “Varian would have sent patrols if word got back to him, they’re covering it up, too. He said Anduin’s death would be the catalyst, so they’re not even letting him even think Anduin’s hurt—” she shook her head. “I think he’s right, I think they’re waiting for us.”

Corel sighed deeply. “Theramore?”

“I can portal us, or… try at least. It’s the one place I feel most confident in, I always know my way home,” she tried to give them a reassuring smile. “Plus, Pained and…” she chewed her lip. “The Guardian… Aegwynn, she has been Jaina’s most trusted advisor for many years-“ she watched realisation dawn on their faces. “She keeps it a secret but Pained and Magna Aegwynn know of what happened. Pained was looking into whatever she could for me. I think we should head there, at the very least, I think we’d be safest there.”

“And if there are cultists already in Theramore?”

Eryn sighed. “I do not believe there is. Jaina is very careful since the deserters and Pained even more so. I doubt anything happens in Theramore without one of them knowing. I can port us right into Jaina’s study, no one else will be there. Maybe Kinndy… she’s the only one I’m suspicious about but… I think I would recognise that magic-“ she shuddered, clenching her fists tightly.

Corel paused. “Was it what we felt on the way…?”

“Yes, but worse… I don’t know how to describe it. Jaina said you found it in Silvermoon?”

“Yes,” he answered. “But it was just a faint trace.”

Anduin blinked. He hadn’t felt anything at all, well, not to begin with. It was the smell that stuck out most to him, though. That awful metallic smell. Blood. “They called it blood magic.”

Eryn nodded. “It sounds familiar to me. Jaina might have a book in her study on it, I know I’ve read the name somewhere. It feels so unnatural, I just wish we knew their goal. Anduin’s death is the catalyst… that would send Varian crazy.”

“He’d probably turn on every mage he found,” Corel said wearily.

Anduin smiled meekly. “We had a mage on the council years ago, they sold off secrets to the horde. Father’s been wearied of them since.”

Eryn breathed out. “The apprentices are being lied to by Canthen and whoever else is in charge, they believe Jaina and Varian want to lock them up. I guess they want Varian to act like that, but then what’s their goal after? More people believe them?”

Corel shuddered. “That many mages turning on the crown? And why are they targeting the horde too?”

Anduin sighed. “This is still more than we had to go on before.”

“I agree,” Eryn said.

“So where do we go after Theramore?”

Eryn paused, tracing patterns of runes into the sand. “I think we should go to Thunder Bluff.”

“What?! They won’t let you in there-“

“Baine is a friend of mine,” Anduin spoke up in defence. “I think he would listen to me, if we could get his attention. Perhaps you can enter the city, take a message for him to allow us in. I know he would allow it.”

Corel snapped his head to stare firmly at Eryn. “But why?”

“Because we need to know what’s going on with the other Horde cities, and I don’t want to go near Undercity even if Sylvanas would allow it-“ Corel was quick to agree, he didn’t like it there either. “And I doubt Garrosh is going to let us walk into Orgrimmar.”

“There’s a but,” Corel’s eyes narrowed.

Eryn let out a breath. “I think we should ask Baine to help us meet with Garrosh.”

“What?” It was Anduin this time, staring at her like she had two heads, yet feeling a surge of affection. 

“In matters of the horde vs the alliance, there’s no way he can be reasoned with, but, if this is going on in his city he’s going to want to get to the bottom of it, that’s who he is,” Eryn said simply. “If we can assure him it isn’t alliance, maybe he will aid us. Or at least tell us what he knows.”

Corel snorted. “I think you’ll find it more likely that he will simply ransack Theramore while Jaina is taken, then turn his sights on Stormwind since it’s so weakened right now. Garrosh is a bad idea. Baine… might be a good one.” There was a pause. “We can also try Lor’Themar. I know many of the council are in the pockets of these people, but he and I were good friends once.” He didn’t want to voice that he thought that may have also been a bad idea, because he would ask Sylvanas, and if Sylvanas got involved. He shuddered. He was positive it would make Garrosh look like a kitten.

“I think we can also try Darnassus, too,” Anduin suggested. 

Eryn sighed. “I don’t think they would allow this type of magic in their city. They’d find it instantly… but… I have a nagging feeling, that we should go there. At the very least, it’s probably the safest we will be, and we can try and get a message to Varian too.”

The three fell into silence. It was darker now; the stars clear in the cloudless night sky. The fire in front of them danced softly, the carcass of a Panther hung over it to cook. It had been the one upside to the animals; the fact they had actual sustenance, not just mage food. Something had changed between them, Corel noted. Eryn was less rigid, as was Anduin. He was sitting relaxed, not at all like the heir of a vast kingdom. His hair was down from the ponytail he’d adopted recently, and he was casually reading a book he’d brought along. The paladin paused, thinking about himself. He felt less controlled, found himself slouching and allowing more shows of emotion than he usually would. He thought of home, of Liadrin who was probably worried where he’d gone, worried he’d been kidnapped or killed for digging into this. In another life perhaps, he would have cared for her, and though he respected her, they’d argued too much, seen too much of the others bad sides, bad traits—been through too much bad together. Kael’Thas had ruined that. He’d ruined a lot of things. Corel wasn’t sure he’d ever make peace with what his best friend had done.

He considered Eryn. 

For a human she was quite pretty, in the strangest way. She was small but knew how to make herself seem bigger. Her eyes were quite entrancing, and he wasn’t sure if her face would match without them. Perhaps it seemed an awful thing to think, but she would probably have been very plain had they been any other colour and not framed with so many lashes. He sighed softly. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been considering it. Any of them could die, that was how dangerous the foe was. They had to focus on Jaina, personal feelings getting in the mix would make it messier. They always did.

Eryn sighed, and he looked up. She seemed so frustrated. She was eating, he was pleased to note, and had her journal open. “I can’t figure it out, why Anduin’s magic affected them so much.”

Anduin looked up, then looked to the paladin. “How did the assassin deal with your magic?”

“I didn’t really use it,” he admitted. “There was too much close quarters. But he did focus on getting away when I did use it.”

Eryn sighed. “It feels like necromancy, but it’s not. Holy magic affects them like it would the undead, but it also doesn’t. I thought maybe it has something to do with the fact they’re using blood for power, and the light tries to heal them—maybe it sucks the power up? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe it makes their magic stronger, but they lose control of it.” Corel suggested. “It’s the best idea we have so far.”

“We should leave tomorrow,” she said again, her strong voice not befitting how tired she still looked. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet and wiped off some sand from her legs. “There’s a lagoon just north of here, I’m going to wash up.”

Anduin watched after her, then turned to the paladin. He wanted to point out that she was a child, that he was too, that, while they were eighteen, neither of them had seen anything of the world. He was a Prince, most of his life had been spent without his father, and then when he’d returned, they’d been distant. He’d not had a normal upbringing, he barely had friends his own age. Eryn—well… he knew very little. She was apprenticed to Jaina, but he’d never seen her before. He assumed Jaina kept her back in Theramore, a secret. His heart felt saddened, he had never really asked her about herself, her family, what made her tick. He also realised the same was true of Corel. 

“Do you have people at home?” he asked quietly.

Corel looked at him, surprised at the question. “No,” he said quickly, then sighed. “Not exactly. I had a wife, once.”

Anduin blinked, moving closer. He knew Elves were old, but….

Corel sighed, squinting up at the sky. “She was a far strider, never seen someone so talented with a bow, even Lady Alleria and Lady Vereesa…” he shook his head. “Perhaps Lady Sylvanas, before-“ he broke off. “She caught my eye.”

“What was she like?”

Corel paused, a rare, small smile on his lips. “She was like the sun. All fire. No one could tell her no, or not to do something. I liked that about her. She’d demanded to see Prince Kael’Thas, she’d been told no, and she barged straight into his study where he and I were talking. He quite liked her, too.”

Anduin smiled. He would never have imagined Corel with that type of woman, but then again, the thought he’d had a wife once had never crossed his mind, either. He realised Corel was old, not just in age, but in life. He’d experienced true horrors, he wasn’t fighting just to get Jaina back, he was fighting to protect his home and his people. The Sin’Dorei had already been through so much. Anduin felt a rush of affection for him and resolved himself to pushing his father into furthering diplomatic relations with those who wished to leave the Horde when they got back.

Corel let out a harsh laugh, sounding more like a bark. “When we had trouble having children… I sought a priest out—Liadrin was a good friend of hers.”

“As in… Lady Liadrin? The Blood Knight Matriarch?”

“The very same,” Corel chuckled. “If there was a problem with her, no one could find it. If there was one with me… no one found it,” he grimaced. “One day I woke up and she was hot and deathly pale. She died the same day.”

Anduin moved forward. “I am sorry.”

He shook his head. “In some ways I am grateful, she had a soft heart despite the fire with which she tried to conceal it. Kael’Thas’ betrayal, Arthas’ defilement of our beautiful forests… it would have ruined her. And to see what happened to the Windrunner sisters… perhaps it was a kindness. If she were still here, she would not be the same person, I’m positive of that.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I do,” he said. “But it no longer hurts. It was… many years ago now. Long before you were born, I’d imagine,” he smiled again. 

“My father really misses my mother,” Anduin said. “I don’t even remember her. All I know of her are stories told to be my other people, how do I know if they’re true? If they don’t only remember things of her that they wanted her to be?” He sighed. “She was a loved person, a warm person. I miss her too—but I don’t know what I miss. Is that odd?”

Corel paused. “I don’t think it’s odd. Mothers provide a special role to us, you can miss the absence of something you’ve never known, because you’re aware it’s not there.”

Soft footsteps caught his ears and he turned slightly to see Eryn stalking over. Her hair was wet, but she was dressed in clean clothes that looked better suited for cold weather. He grimaced; was Theramore that bad? “How is she?” Anduin asked quietly.

“She will… be okay.”

Eryn cleared her throat, sitting down on her bedroll. “What were you two talking about so quietly?” she raised an eyebrow. “I saw Corel smiling.”

“We were talking about family,” Anduin answered, finding the opportunity to talk about her own upbringing. “If you’d like to join.”

He watched her face freeze into a solid smile, and then it was replaced by the saddest look he didn’t think had any right to be on her features. He wanted to take it from her, the sadness, replace it with only happiness. He regretted asking, but, he wanted to help too. To heal this pain, she was feeling; that was his job, that was his role. If he had to be kind, warm, gentle with her… he would be. He watched her carefully, her soft lip parting, her lilac eyes flicking to him, then to the ground, then to her hands which she fidgeted with. Her eyes were framed by so many eyes lashes he was sure it would have looked out of place had her eyes not been such a striking colour. She was fair-skinned, probably due to Theramore he assumed. Anduin decided she was pretty.

“I have no family left,” she said quietly. “Jaina is the closest thing to a relation I have.”

“What about your parents?” Anduin asked.

Eryn’s fingers flexed, and she occupied herself with the hem of her robe. “My mother died when I was very young. My father never spoke about her, he was… too upset with grief, and before he could deal with it, he died, too,” she smiled weakly. “I was very young when we came to Theramore. I showed magical talent, but no one in Stratholme would teach me. We even tried at Light’s Hope, perhaps they could find a place for me. We could not afford me to go to Dalaran, so we tried everywhere we could find. We even stopped into Loredaeron, once.”

“You are from Loredaeron?” Anduin asked surprised. He’d assumed she was born in Theramore.

“Yes,” She said breathlessly. “Though I was too young when I left, I have no recollection of any of it. It was starting to be overwhelmed with undead when we left. My father hated leaving, he loved it there, but we made the trip to Theramore. He said…” She frowned. “He said t-that-“ it took a moment for Anduin to realise she was trying very hard not to cry. His hands twitched, wanting to reach for her. He noticed Corel shift anxiously too. “I was the only thing he had left in this world... and so,” she took a deep breath. “So, he was going to make sure I had the best life he could give me, even if it was far away.”

“And you went to Theramore?”

“We came to Menethil Harbour and got on the boat with the little money we had left. It was our last shot. I still remember the first time I saw Theramore, it was still so young then, more of a military port than a town, but, my father and I sat outside Jaina’s residence every day until she took notice. When she realised I had a lot of natural magic she took me in instantly-“ she bit her lip. “I was so happy. She gave me somewhere to live, secured a job for my father and somewhere for him to live. She gave me the best education she could give me. I was raised as though I was a noble-man’s daughter, I even had classes on court etiquette for if Jaina decided she would take me to court,” she smiled at Anduin who laughed softly. So that explained the poise she had, the way in which she tried to restrain herself entirely. He felt somewhat sad, he didn’t think she should be restrained at all. He’d never looked upon a tiger and thought the beast was best caged, they were best when they were free to do as they pleased. He felt the same was true of her.

“What happened to him?” Corel asked.

Eryn gave him a pained look. “He was bitten by a snake. He was already old and frail, the years had taken so much toll on him… he died quickly, I made sure I was with him. After that I moved in fully with Jaina, I spent more time studying, or helping the people in the town.”

“You miss it,” Anduin pointed out. “You must have hated leaving it for Dalaran.”

“I do… I did,” she gave him a tiny smile. “I don’t want to go back to Dalaran, it’s good for learning… and I like learning, I really do but… it’s not home. I can still visit.”

“After this you intend to return to Theramore, then?”

“Stormwind has grown on me, too,” she pointed out.

“You would like Silvermoon,” Corel said, looking at her resolutely. “You use your magic as freely as we do. Human’s… tend to frown upon such casual usage of magic,” he gave Anduin a look, to which the prince just shrugged and laughed. It was true, so what could he say to that? “We have vast libraries, too, you could learn a lot there. After this, I will invite you to visit. Both of you.”

Eryn smiled warmly at him. “I’d like to see more of the world, I just don’t know if I could stay away long. I miss the sea air.”

Anduin chuckled. So that was why she’d liked to take early morning walks to the docks while she’d been in Stormwind. He’d gotten curious one morning when he noticed she always woke up early and would leave. To begin with he’d been somewhat worried she was involved in something bad and wanted to save her from it, but instead he found she would just walk to the docks and pace. He thought she’d been waiting for something, but, she’d just been enjoying the sea air.

He missed his home, they all did. They all had something to fight for with this; his father, Jaina, his home, his people. Eryn had Jaina and her home, her hopes to return home. Corel was adamant in protecting his home, his people from further troubles. The foe seemed impossible, he knew that, but they could pull it off, he was positive. They would be able to defeat this enemy and return home, silently victorious. At least, that was what he hoped. He hoped no one else would get hurt. He hated seeing people hurt. It was a childish hope, but he hoped for it nonetheless. They just had to succeed, too much was at stake otherwise. 

It would be a long journey yet, and he wasn’t sure where it would take them, nor what further troubles lay ahead of them, but, he was glad he wasn’t alone. That there were two other people sharing the same burden as him. Two people he was glad to call friends.


	10. CHAPTER NINE: MALEFICAR

The sky of Stranglethorn was pretty at night. Eryn had lain awake the past few nights, watching the stars flitter across the sky unmarred by clouds, or hidden by roof tops, or blurred out by masses of oil lamps. It made her want to travel, to see the world, and to grow. There were other places just as beautiful as this, she was sure of it. She wanted to see Feralas properly, she wanted to visit Winterspring, to study the Night Elf ruins. She’d become curious about what lay within Vash’jir, too, after reading an account that had been passed onto Jaina many months ago. There was a world out there, she wanted to visit it, help the people, learn, grow… learn who she was.

It was something Eryn struggled with.

She was happy with who she was, but she sometimes felt as if she’d become the person Jaina wanted her to be. There was nothing wrong with it, but perhaps she’d become that person because she felt like she had to. She wanted to find out about her mother more, visit her home… she could barely remember the Plaguelands, and no doubt they would look entirely different now. She wanted to go there, to maybe try and help the Paladin’s and Druids with their restoration. Perhaps there was something she could do to help them.

She thought about finding a new teacher. Jaina had taught her well, but she’d taught her within walls, within rooms. She wanted someone she could learn with while travelling, but most mages she would learn from didn’t travel. They often stayed within Dalaran or stayed within the confines of their cities and towns, only venturing out when commanded to. When all this was over she didn’t want to stay in Dalaran anymore, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay in Stormwind, or Theramore either. They were home to her, especially the latter, but she didn’t suppose she would learn very much within the walls of the keep. Of course, she’d learn military strategy, she’d learn a great deal about Varian, about Genn, she’d learn how to handle nobility better… but was that what she wanted?

She missed home, that was true, but Eryn thought of the past week or so. So much had happened, almost none of it good, but she’d found she enjoyed the travelling. She’d already seen so much more of the world than before. And, she enjoyed getting to know her travelling companions. Making real friends, people she felt like she fit in with. Neither showed any signs of caring about her lack of restraint with magic, a personality trait of hers, which, even plenty of other mages frowned upon. 

Eventually, Eryn decided she would be getting no sleep. She’d barely slept since Darkshire, only able to replay the one scene in her head over, and over. She wasn’t sure which disturbed her most, the look of horror on the faces of the two innocent human’s he’d sacrificed, how powerless she’d felt, the fact she’d killed him, or the fact Anduin had almost been hurt. She could still feel the lick of fire on the back of her neck, and while fire never bothered her, it was different when the fire was controlled. What kept her more awake was that Anduin was soundly asleep. She sat up, watching his chest rise and fall. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

Corel looked over at her, then back out at the forests. “I thought something would have happened by now. I don’t like this. There’s no sense of anything coming from Duskwood, not even a sense Varian has heard of it.”

Eryn sighed. “I suppose we can’t just head back and ask him either.”

“No,” he said simply, glancing at her, then back at the forest. “The assassin isn’t even following us. I expect he could be waiting within Booty Bay, but….”

“It feels wrong,” Eryn agreed, standing up. “I think we should wake him and go now. It must be early morning.” Indeed, the sun was nowhere in the sky, but it was starting to lighten just a bit. She was positive it wouldn’t be too long before the sun appeared over the ocean. “Pained will already be awake. The fewer people who know we were there the better. I…” She looked at her hands. “I know of the magic they’re using, but I can’t place where.”

“And you hope Aegwynn will know something.”

She looked at him, smiling slightly. “Yes. If anyone does know anything, it will be her.” She picked up her staff, before casting a spell to make everything pack itself up. She nodded happily. Her magic had been off recently, she put it down to turmoil in her emotions, or perhaps using too much mana back within Darkshire, but he was pleased it was back to normal. 

“Anduin,” Corel said, squeezing his shoulder. “Wake up.”

The prince’s eyes fluttered open and Eryn chuckled. She admired how he would be so easily awoken. According to him it was very unlike him, he was usually a heavy sleeper. “What’s going on?” he asked through a yawn.

Corel sighed. The friendlier they became the less like a prince he became. It reminded him of better times. When he’d first met Kael’Thas, the prince had been a young boy. Corel wasn’t much older, not in Elf terms anyway. Still, he’d beenyoung and naive and had been so firm and rigid with the prince, not at all familiar. They’d decided to work on a piece of magic together, and while locked within the prince’s study, he found the closeness naturally built. The dropping of titles, the openness of mannerisms usually better left hidden in a formal situation. “We’re going now.”

“It’s so early,” Anduin said.

“All the better for us not to be seen,” Eryn said, staring at him. He took her in. She was wearing dark robes, and a darker travelling cloak with the hood pulled up. He shuddered, feeling rather spooked. In the dark with just her staff she looked quite formidable, but he had to admit, he would never have recognised her. She packed up his bedroll quickly using magic and inhaled deeply. “If we’re attacked I vote we just leave through he main gate and into the marsh. We can lose them easily there, just be careful of the wandering spirits.”

Corel raised an eyebrow. He knew little of Dustwallow, when he’d heard it was a swamp he’d resigned himself to never visiting. Now it seemed he was destined to go there any way, a fate which should have amused him, but didn’t. “The spirits?”

She chuckled. “They like to lure adventurers away from the paths and into more dangerous parts of the swamp. They’re not harmful themselves, but it’s a dangerous place. I am just glad we have no reason to go near the black dragons.”

“You do not like them,” Anduin pointed out. He supposed he should have been weary of them after Onyxia, and after everything Deathwing had done, but he found in his heart he didn’t have it in him. He wanted to trust that they weren’t all the same. Maybe it was young and stupid, he thought, but that was the type of person he was.

“They are vicious,” she answered. “But should pose no danger.”

“If we get separated…?” Corel stared at her.

“Then we head to Thunder Bluff and meet there.”

“What?” Anduin frowned. “And what if one of us never turns up.”

Corel sighed. “That was always a possibility, Anduin, that one of us is going to get hurt, or killed, or taken. It’s foolhardy for us to turn around, each of us is capable of protecting ourselves. We have to trust in the others to get out of it.”

Anduin muttered, not liking the idea.He understood it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to agree with it. Eryn was younger than him, but why did she feel older? He watched the look she shared with the Blood Elf and he felt himself bristle quickly. They would be good together, he decided. He understood her magic, and he was mature and sensible enough, he could stimulate her intellectually. Anduin looked away not entirely understanding the jealously he was feeling, the inadequacy he was feeling.

“Let’s go then,” he muttered.

Eryn chuckled at him. “Just a warning, but Aegwynn doesn’t like to be called magna or guardian. She barely even accepts her name so…” she gave them a weary look, then turned her attention to the space in front of her.

The concept of portals didn’t really come to her as other magic did. She understood how they worked, but she put it down to her little world knowledge, her unfamiliarity with the outside lands, that she struggled. It was why she believed she could always make a sturdy portal back to Theramore. It was home, she knew it like the back of her hand. Nothing changed there without her knowing. She concentrated, chanting softly under her breath and focusing her magic into one point, seeking the land she called home and finding the direct route there through the nether. She focused on another one which would allow the horses through and outside of the gates. She hoped they wouldn’t be too spooked, if they made it through, but they couldn’t risk even one of them going with the horses. And, she doubted, Jaina would be too happy with horses in her study. Then, she looked back at them both, nodded, then stepped through.

Sea air greeted her, wafting up through the windows of Jaina’s study from the harbour. She could hear some fishermen returning, the beams of the light house illuminated everything outside, sending blasts of light within the tower. She breathed in deeply. Home.

“So, this is where Aunt Jaina lives,” Anduin said, peering around. He’d been to Theramore before, but he’d been much younger.

“Hello?”

Corel and Anduin stiffened, but Eryn just happily went to the stairs, pulling her hood down. “Pained!”

“Miss!” 

There was a clatter, Corel couldn’t have been sure she hadn’t been attacked and in urgency sought out his dormant arcane power to light the magically powered lamps in the room. It was only when his eyes were firmly on the human being hugged tightly by a Night Elf did he relax.

“I heard what happened in Darkshire,” she breathed. “I knew it couldn’t be true.”

“What?” Eryn took a step back. “How could you know?”

“You don’t know?” Pained asked, looking around at the three of them, a horrified look on her face. “Shit.”

Corel almost laughed at how Anduin looked at the swearing. He supposed he’d heard it, but never in polite company. He doubted his father swore around him very often. It wasn’t the type of thing Princes like Anduin were accustomed to. “What happened?”

Pained breathed out, eyes narrowing. “Two days ago, a missive came from Stormwind. There had been an attack on Darkshire carried out by a mage, a priest, and a paladin from the Horde.” Eryn paled. “There was a bounty put on all of your heads by the High King.”

Anduin stepped forward, pale as a sheet. “My father?”

“How is he justifying that?” Eryn asked loudly. “Varian would never—his own son-“

“He’s not justifying it, he’s just saying he’s an enemy to the peace. Something… odd is going on. I tried contacting Genn, but I got no reply. I sent a letter to Tess just this morning.”

“We have to go back,” Anduin said. “My father-“

“Would want us to find Jaina,” Corel said firmly.

“But my father-“

“What is all this arguing so early in the morning?”

Eryn straightened, watching the old lady come up the stairs. She looked frailer than she could remember, but Aegwynn still held the command of the room, the other two realising who she was instantly. Corel felt her power, it was mostly gone, but it lingered in her. He could feel it, the way Eryn’s magic which clung to her so tightly unwound itself to cling to Aegwynn. Anduin closed his mouth, but stared resolutely at the wall, his fists clenched. If his father was in danger, he had to go back. They all had to.

“Lady Aegwynn,” Eryn said quickly, hurrying to her. “I need your help. We know what magic they’re using, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“Oh, it is blood magic,” she said simply, looking unsurprised. “I realised that myself.”

“H-how?”

Aegwynn sighed. She felt such a foolish old woman, always caught up in things. She liked Jaina, to a point she liked Eryn, but she missed her quiet life, away from everything. She preferred to remain oblivious, but then, where would they be without her? “There are only two types of magic which can control the minds of an individual.”

“Shadow magic can,” Anduin spoke.

Eryn glanced at him, then back to Aegwynn who nodded. “But it only works on the weak minded. To bind the strong willed it takes a stronger shadow priest, it most certainly requires nothing like a sacrifice.”

Eryn breathed out. “But you’re saying Blood Magic can do this.”

“Yes. It is a very old form of magic, discovered by mages long before my time. When the leader of their order went insane with power, started using the blood of others rather than his own, they decided that it was too dangerous for others to find out. The things that can be achieved with that magic would cause humanity to truly fear mages, wars would be fought on grand scales, it was dangerous. So, they killed their leader, Mafyr, to stop him. And burned all records of the magic.”

“And how do you know this?” Corel asked.

“Why, I was guardian. It is… was, my job to know these things,” she frowned at him. “The council of Tirisfal keep the knowledge in the Chamber of the Guardian, there were other books about it kept within Karazhan. How these people came to know about it… it must have been a hapless accident,” she sighed. “For so long it had been kept away. It’s paramount it’s wiped out again.”

“It’s already in the minds of so many,” Eryn breathed, sitting down on a chair behind Jaina’s desk. Anduin noted how tired she looked, how small she looked. “What do we do against them? I assume the guardian has knowledge to fight them.”

“There is nothing,” Aegwynn replied. “Nothing special to work against them, you just need to be stronger than their leader. We call the uses of blood magic, Maleficar,” she explained. “The leader is the key, if he’s taken out, the others lose their powers, too.”

“Why is that?” Anduin asked.

“His blood powers their magic.”

“And can’t someone else take his place?” Corel asked.

“Possibly, but they would need to know the rituals involved, and I doubt he or she would share that information.”

Eryn shook her head. “They wouldn’t want to risk someone killing them and taking their place.”

“Exactly.”

“How did you realise it was blood magic, and not a powerful shadow priest?” Corel asked.

“My dear boy,” Aegwynn frowned. “You have met king Varian, yes? Do you suppose his mind easily beaten by even the strongest of priests?” Anduin chuckled despite himself. “Jaina’s blood is probably powering it.”

“Meaning if we get Jaina back, we break Varian’s mind control?” Eryn moved forward.

“Possibly.”

Corel looked at Eryn, frowning. Wasn’t this too much for the three of them to handle? And now they couldn’t turn to the Alliance for any help or guidance. It seemed their trip to the Tauren was at the right time, they needed more help, they needed to know what was going on. “We have no idea where she could be.”

The whole thing was a mess, Anduin thought. To save his father he had to save his Aunt, and to save her—how? They had no information.

“Do you think we could get into Karazhan?” Eryn spoke up. “Find one of these books? Maybe they mention places they might keep her.”

“I doubt you could even try, girl,” Aegwynn murmured. “The place is dangerous these days. I, may, suggest, asking the Night Elves.”

Pained stepped forward, confusion on her face. “Tyrande and Malfurion would never allow this magic in their lands. They’re already torn about letting the Highborn back.”

“This Mafyr,” Eryn said. “He was a Highborn, wasn’t he?”

Aegwynn gave her a small smile. “I knew you were not unintelligent.”

“That explains why it’s familiar,” she said, grabbing her pack and rummaging around. “I knew I heard the term blood magic,” she flicked through pages of a book Anduin recognised as the one she’d been studying from since he’d first met. One about ancient runes, and ancient forms of magic. “Here,” she said, putting the book flat on the table. All but Aegwynn gathered around, peering down. 

“Of Blood Magic and Maleficar nothing shall be written, it is a magic more dangerous than anything. Even the Queen Azshara fears its power,” Pained spoke out loud, translating the Darnassian at the bottom of the page.

“You can read Darnassian?” Anduin asked Eryn.

Corel gave him a look. “Now is not the time to be impressed by that.”

“Indeed,” Pained said. “If even Azshara feared it….”

Eryn sighed, shutting the book and rubbing her head. “Pained, can you write to Tyrande and Malfurion? We’re going to seek an audience with Baine first, but we should head there afterwards. If they have any information, it could help.”

“Do we have time?” Corel asked. “We should leave.”

“We should leave before noon,” Eryn confirmed, nodding. “We all need some proper rest before we go. I’m going to check on the horses and find some herbs. I expect we’ll be needing potions.”

Corel nodded, watching her leave. He wondered how she was feeling, whether he should go after her or not. She seemed so resolute, as if running on auto pilot and not allowing herself to think about it. Anduin was the contrast, emotions arguing with him. He could see it on his face. The things he must do versus the things he wished to do. “Varian will be okay,” he said firmly.

“I just…” the prince sighed, taking the seat Eryn had just occupied. The book sat on the desk still and he opened it, flicking through. It was the strangest mix of English, Darnassian, and Thalassian he’d ever seen. Could she truly read it, or only parts? “I don’t understand what their goal is. If it’s war against the horde they could just do it now they have my father.”

“There’s been attacks within the horde, too,” Corel pointed out. “I don’t think they want a faction war, there are simpler ways to do it.”

“Maleficar seek power,” Aegwynn said. “To that end there is nothing they wouldn’t do. Perhaps there is no goal. Maybe they seek chaos? Or, maybe they want the world to bow to them.”

“You say it so causally,” Corel replied.

“It is our fate, perhaps, if you three fail. There is no point in not being casual about it,” she retorted. “Better to make peace with the future now before it sneaks upon you and takes you by surprise.”

Still, Anduin felt it didn’t explain much. Did these Maleficar want the mages to reign over non-mages? Was that it? He couldn’t imagine all the mages would go along with it, there would be plenty who would fight, right? But, then he remembered how strong they were. If Jaina was taken, perhaps the list of people who may stand up against them was so small. What if they were weak minded and controlled before they could fight back? Or, what if those other strong mages decided they wanted power, too?

No one should have that power.

He found he got no rest. Corel, for once, looked to be sleeping. Anduin had too much on his mind and instead sat in the window of Jaina’s study, watching the busy town below. They acted as though nothing was going on, but there was a thick fog creeping in from the sea. He could see why Eryn enjoyed it so much, the sea air was calming, it reminded him of her. He worried; she should have been back long ago if she was checking on the horses. 

Pained was pacing. “It never takes her this long to get herbs, I’m going to check on her.”

Anduin wanted to go, too, but he knew he shouldn’t. The town seemed peaceful, but it only took one of them to recognise him. This bounty made it difficult. He tried not to be hurt by it, that it wasn’t truly his father who had issued it, but he felt it was futile to push down that feeling. There was so much… doubt within him recently. He had to grow up. He considered himself mature for his age, already having been through so much, but this was different. He was still innocent to the true plight of the world, still ignorant to dangers such as this. He had to fight back. Anduin wasn’t sure if it unsettled him to think of it, but his father was in danger, he was going to protect him, protect his people. Protect his friends. He glanced over at Corel, who was now awake, staring at the ceiling. He wondered what the Blood Elf was thinking about this messy situation. What was going to happen after it? There were so many questions. 

Hurried footsteps and panting was the first sign something wasn’t right.

Corel was to his feet quicker than Anduin, already at the top of the stairs when Pained burst in. There was an arrow in her hand, and a scrap of the dark purple robes Eryn had been wearing. And, also, Anduin noted with horror, she carried Eryn’s staff. “She’s gone, I found this by the horses.”

Anduin felt sick. He should never have let her go alone. He felt angry at Corel; he should never have let her go alone, either! Was she hurt? By the light he hoped she was safe. His stomach curled up. He was always too late to save his friends in the past, what if that was true this time? Everything was spinning out of control, and the one person who seemed to be able to bring stability to it, she was gone too. 

Corel took the arrow from her, scowling as he threw it aside. “Orcs.”


	11. CHAPTER TEN: PERSEVERANCE

There was no hint that it was noon when they left. If the sun was high in the sky it did not show through the thick mist which seemed to pour from every place in the marsh. Corel had been right in assuming Dustwallow was not a place he would enjoy. It was cold, but the type of cold that got into your bones no matter how warmly you were dressed, one that wouldn’t leave, and one that he was certain wasn’t entirely created by the mist. The atmosphere on the road was… solemn. He wondered if that had to do with the place itself, or the fact that Anduin had not said two words to him since they’d left. He wanted to scold him for sulking like a child, but he didn’t have it in him. 

Eryn had said it herself; if one of them got left behind, to meet in Thunder Bluff. It had taken a lot of arguing to convince Anduin not to find any trace of her and follow her. He’d reasoned that if it was the Orc’s who had her, meeting Baine would be the most useful part; perhaps he’d be able to talk to Garrosh about freeing her, she was taken from neutral territory. Yet Anduin had pointed out that she had a bounty, perhaps the horde had the same one. Corel hadn’t wanted to think about that, he did not like Garrosh, but he didn’t think the Orc would be mind controlled so easily, even with Jaina’s blood. Varian was one thing, Garrosh was something entirely else. 

He’d also had to point out to the young prince, that Eryn was a capable mage. Probably the best suited of the three to escape, even without her staff she would still be strong. Anduin didn’t like it, the idea of leaving her behind. It terrified him. What if she didn’t ever come back? What if, they got to Thunder Bluff and remained there for days and she still didn’t appear? Would they ever know?

Part of him wondered if she hadn’t just run off, and he wondered if he could blame her. It would be a cowardly thing to do, but so much had been put on their shoulders. He could understand why she would have wanted that.But, he knew she was not a coward. Still, he prayed as he rode the horse through the marsh, trying to ignore the distant wails of the spirits which Pained had warned them about. He pleaded for her safe return. She was his friend, he wanted to know her better. They had a world to see together, after all of this was done! He had so many questions to ask her.

Anduin knew he should not have sulked with Corel over it, that it was a very childish behaviour, that it was the type of behaviour which made Corel more suited for Eryn, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to blame someone, and Corel was the only one he could blame. He knew it wasn’t his fault, he felt terrible for taking it out on him, but it was just so… so frustrating! To not know, to have no idea who had even taken her, or why, or even how.

The pair rode in silence apart from when Corel would call to pause, to stop their paths crossing with some of the wildlife. They would head up through the barrens, fully cloaked so Alliance and Horde soldiers would not see who they were. Perhaps Eryn’s disappearance had played in their favour, two people together aroused little suspicion than three, especially when it was three travelling together who were wanted criminals.

Corel was anxious to get out of the swamp. Aegwynn had posed no insight to where Eryn could be, her power too weak to be able to find her, even with Eryn’s magic as potent as it was. Corel couldn’t find her either, it worried him that perhaps these Maleficar had found her. Yet, he decided that couldn’t be the case. These people were proud, if they caught her, they would have paraded it, perhaps used her blood to fuel an instant attack upon Theramore. He shuddered. He’d wanted to ask the guardian about how the holy magic had affected the Maleficar so much, but there had been no time in their leaving. Pained had given them as much information as she could and had to sneak them out without Kinndy knowing. 

Once they were in the barrens they would head through the ruins of Camp Taurajo, and once at Thunder Bluff, they would both enter the city. Though, Anduin would ride with Corel, and they would head straight to meet with Baine. Had Eryn still been with them, the plan would have been to send a message and wait for the reply, but Anduin could not be left alone. Corel had little confidence that the Harlequin had left them alone, even if they’d put a few days ahead of him, sooner or later he was going to catch up with them, he knew it. How long would they wait in Booty Bay, if they indeed had?

Once or twice he thought about breaking the silence with the prince, after all, they would only have each other for company for at least a few days but decided against it each time. Anduin would come around, he just had a lot to focus on. Not only was his father in the hands of this enemy, but he’d declared his son an enemy, and now on top of it, one of his friends had gone missing—and they knew nothing about that. And so, they rode in silence. 

Eryn’s pack was with his own, but he flicked through some of the books she’d been reading, trying to find any trace of information on Blood Magic. There were interesting spells, some he’d known of, some he hadn’t. None of them were of any use, even using the bit he had earlier in the day to light Jaina’s study had tired him out, made him feel… odd. He had forgotten the feeling of arcane magics in his veins and it burned him deeply in a way which made him crave it more. He felt rotten for using it at all, for wanting to give into the craving so badly. The mana sung in his veins and it took all his effort to not censure his body with holy light to burn out the impurities. 

When they were finally out of the swamp and into the Barrens, Corel let out a huge sigh of relief. Even his horse seemed relieved to have its hooves back on solid ground. It was early evening by then, he wanted to get past as much of the fighting as possible and find a secluded place for them to camp. They would head towards Taurajo the following morning, and if things were good, arrive in Mulgore the following afternoon. Anduin was looking around a lot when they got into the Barrens, looking for any sign she may have been there. Signs of a mage fighting, or any more shreds of her robes. But there was nothing.No one had noticed her going, there had been no fight, no signs of scorch marks or anything. The only thing had been the Orcish arrow, and even then, that said nothing. It could have been scavengers, or defias trying something tricky. 

Anduin breathed out, kicking his horse to spur it so he could ride alongside Corel. He’d been in his head the entire journey and he had to admit it was lonely. He didn’t truly blame Corel, but he felt it too awkward to apologise for it. Part of him wanted to discuss his feelings for the mage, to see if Corel felt anything for her. But, that wasn’t his business, it was between them and he should stay out of it.

“You are in pain,” he said instead, keeping his eyes ahead. “I can sense it.”

“Damn priests,” Corel muttered, looking away. He hated his shame, he hated what had become of his people. He never wanted people to know it. 

Anduin’s eyes softened despite his demeanour. “I can help.”

“No,” Corel sighed, shaking his head and relaxing his posture. “No, you cannot help this.”

“Please, tell me about it,” Anduin asked softly. “I want to get to know you better. Even if I cannot help, you do not need to hide it. Were you hurt back in Darkshire?”

Corel clutched his horses reigns tighter, sighing. “The Sin’Dorei have an addiction to magic, or, we used to. When Arthas polluted the Sunwell… it tainted us too. It is what drove Kael’Thas to… the limits he took.”

“You speak of him fondly.”

“He was my greatest friend,” Corel answered quickly. “I do not agree with what he did, indeed, I stood against him. I knew it was wrong, that he was wrong. I refused to let my friend walk down that path, yet no matter how much I begged and pleaded he did not turn away.”

Anduin clenched his hands tightly. The Sin’Dorei were an old race, Corel seemed older than many of the ones he’d met before, but he seemed to have experienced so much. How was it possible to lose so much and still have so much hope left?

“The Naaru purified the Sunwell, that’s what allows us to be Paladin’s, it… cured our addiction, somewhat,” he let out a chuckle, one which Anduin noted was bitter and sarcastic. He brushed some of his long hair from his face and carried on, his shoulders heaving with a sigh. “Some of us don’t feel it at all. They can continue to wield arcane powers like nothing, but for others…” he closed his eyes, trying to phrase it properly. “It is always there, lingering. You remember how it feels and so you want it, but you know you can’t. I try and stay away from it. I haven’t used Arcane powers in a long time, I devoted myself fully to the light. Truthfully, it’s a path I found myself to enjoy more than being a mage. Sure, I could do wonderful things with the arcane, but… part of me feels if I had become a paladin sooner I may have been able to save my wife.”

Anduin waited for him to carry on, but he didn’t seem to say anything more. He thought carefully about his words. “You used magic… before, in Theramore.”

“Yes.”

His heart beat. He’d been scared and used it instinctively, out of worry for Eryn. 

“It is my greatest shame,” Corel admitted. “It burns in my veins, my body longs for the feeling of the magic, my mind even urges me on. Think of the great things you could do, it says, you could stand against these Maleficar if you wielded power of the arcane again, it says,” Corel let out another bitter laugh. “Ridiculous.”

“I don’t see it as a shame,” Anduin replied. “You haven’t given in, it wasn’t as if you had a choice, Arthas-“

“We always have a choice, Anduin,” Corel said, cutting him off. “But, thank you for not seeing it as the worst of me,” he added, bowing his head in silent thankfulness.

Above them, the sky was growing dark. Stars and galaxies were strewn across the deep blue, a few clouds passed by, hiding the moon from view. The Barrens got cold in the evening, Anduin could feel the chill already and tightened his cloak around him. This was the furthest he’d ever willingly gone from Stormwind for anything apart from study, he realised.

“Isn’t it difficult to be around other mages?”

“It depends,” Corel said. “Back home I am used to it, the magic is used so freely. It tempts me, but I can endure it, but if it is a mage with whom I am not familiar it is more difficult.”

“What was Eryn like?”

Corel paused, considering. “Magic clings to her as readily as the light clings to you,” he answered, nodding his head slightly. “It plays with her, almost, it is a part of her. When she moves, it helps her, even without her knowing. She uses magic so freely, I thought for sure it would be difficult but… her magic is so pure in use.”

Anduin thought. He envied his affinity for the arcane, wishing he could feel the nuance with her. Was the magic the cause of her poise and grace? The way the wind always perfectly picked up her hair when they were riding? He wanted to ask Jaina about it, too, to see if she could describe it better. But, still- “So it didn’t bother you at all?”

“A little, if I’m honest,” Corel said. “But it was partly jealousy more than anything. Magic wants to be near her, even if I gave in and… tried to siphon from her, I doubt I would get much.”

“You speak as though the arcane is a living thing.”

“It’s a force,” Corel answered. “As much as the light is. They just work… differently. Arcane is part of you, part of us, we all have the ability to draw upon it, to use magic. Some of us more than others. The light… uses us as a vessel, channels through us. Though for Priests and Paladin’s it is different, as I’m sure you’re aware-ah,” he pulled up his horse. “See that mountainup ahead? We will camp near it. It should protect us from the winds and keep us hidden.”

“It’s quiet without her.”

“You miss her,” Corel pointed out. 

“So do you.”

The Blood Elf chuckled. “Not as much as you, I think.”

Anduin scrunched up his nose. What was that even supposed to mean? “She is my friend,” he said firmly. “Of course I miss her. I miss the little lights she makes when we travel, or how she can keep conversation going.”

“Or the way you smile when she laughs at something she’s just read?”

Anduin paused, blushing softly. 

Corel laughed. “There is no shame in having feelings for her, Anduin, I believe you would be a fool not to. Though, I am not sure if she would be the type of person to want to be tied down, especially to a prince,” he gave him a level look. “She enjoys freedom, something she seems to have had little of her entire life.”

Feelings? Anduin had almost not heard anything else he’d said, too focused on the first sentence. He supposed that made the most sense, he noticed her absence more because he was the most aware of her when she was there. He liked to listen to her, ask her questions. He picked up on some of her quirks, too. She was an interesting person, one who he always had more to learn about. He had to admit, it wasn’t how he acted with his other friends, but—but Corel was right. 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, Anduin, you never know what could happen.”

“If we ever get her back.”

Corel chuckled. “Anduin, I think you worry too much. I feel bad more for whomever has taken her, just as much as I feel bad for the people who had to handle Jaina at first.”

“I hate not knowing, where she is, who she’s with, if she’s even coming back,” Anduin said weakly, thankful when they came upon the spot Corel mentioned before. “I… thought she and you... that…” he blushed.

“That we-“ Corel laughed. “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t tie her to me, even if I loved her deeply. It would be unkind. I am very old, Anduin, even if I do not look it. I still love my wife very much, and Eryn is not the type of woman you can put second,” he chuckled. 

Anduin didn’t think he was very suited to her, either. One day he would be king, if he courted her, she would be queen. He couldn’t imagine it; dealing with nobles, cooped up inside. The Eryn he knew—if he thought hard—he pictured her some place far away, exploring and learning, helping people. Perhaps it would be best to let his feelings die. Maybe Corel was right, maybe she would surprise them both, but….

“Don’t over think it,” Corel added, seeing the turmoil on the young man’s face. 

And just like that, silence set in. Corel spent some time starting a fire, while Anduin searched nearby for any food. They’d brought enough water with them, without Eryn to conjure some up… he hadn’t realised just how much they had relied on her. He wondered how Corel remained so relaxed. He was a man of little emotion, but he’d opened to him so much that day. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to deal with the things he did; once he’d been a mage, now he could no longer cast even a simple spell. It occurred to him that Corel could just have given up, he had no reason to return and tell them they’d taken Jaina. No reason to accompany them on the journey, even if he was friends with her. He truly cared for his people.

He was curious, too, about his friendship with Kael’Thas. Andun’s life had always been full of failed princes, failed heroes, he was always so anxious of turning into that. Arthas, Kael’Thas, even Illidan’s own story fascinated him. He’d just been doing what he thought was right, and it had turned each of them down a dark path. That could be him, he could have seen his future laid out in front of him and not even known it. He needed people in his life who would tell him, would stop him when he went too far, and he had to remind himself to listen to them. He knew he was stubborn, a trait he got from his father, but he truly believed in a diplomatic end were possible.

It was a quiet night. Corel spent some time looking for any hint of Eryn’s magic, but then just settled on thinking about the rest of the journey. They could be walking into a trap. Thunder Bluff could be teeming full of enemies and they’d have no idea. Baine could have been in control of the Maleficar. They may not even have let them into the city. If Baine wasn’t so reasonable and respectable, Corel wouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. Though, he wondered where else they could have gone.

He only slept when Anduin woke up to take watch, but even then, he slept little.

The sun had barely risen when they started the rest of their journey. Anduin noted the dull ache in his stomach, even if the mana biscuits were not tasty at least they were filling. He thought back to the start of their journey, Corel had all but insisted Eryn be the one to conjure the food up even though he could too. It had been right there, the things he was going through the entire time, and he’d never cared to ask.

The Barrens were hotter than Theramore, so their thick black travel cloaks started to feel heavy. Still, they couldn’t remove them. Their horses were patient, Eryn’s having been left behind. Corel had mentioned, that, when it was possible they would need to swap horses or continue by foot, anyway. Their horses would get exhausted soon, if they weren’t already. Anduin couldn’t imagine how long the journey would take on foot. 

It took some time to silently slip past Camp Taurajo. Anduin felt disgusted, fires still lingered there. He knew the Horde were capable of some heinous war crimes, but the same was true of his own people, he felt deeply disappointed in them, and wondered if his father knew of some of the things committed in the name of the Alliance. He wanted to show them better,

The grassy plains of Mulgore were a beautiful sight to the pair of them. Not only had they gotten through the Horde and Alliance conflict without even being stopped, but Mulgore was much cooler, and there was an abundance of food and water. From the border they could see Thunder Bluff in the distance and Anduin started to feel calmer. At some point in this mess, he realised they’d had no control of the situation, that they were losing any grip they’d had, but seeing Thunder Bluff somehow reassured him. Baine would know what to do.

But there was something they needed to discuss first.

Anduin took a deep breath. “What do we do if she doesn’t join us?” She’d said leave the person behind, but he wondered if she would have done it had it been one of them. Probably not, he decided.

Corel paused. “We find her.”

Anduin smiled. He wasn’t sure what had changed his mind, their discussion the day before, or the realisation upon both how much they needed her. Her absence was obvious, in the darkness without a light, without an easy fire, without easy food, easy water, without the conversation she could start so easily, without the light-hearted laughter she’d brought at first. Even after the events at Darkshire, her presence had still been obvious, still been a comfort. She had this way of disappearing into her head and having the most peculiar expressions upon her face. Anduin always wondered if she’d been aware she as doing it. It seemed the type of thing a girl raised like her would have been told not to do. He felt a pang of anger at Jaina, why had she kept her so locked up and away from everyone? Why had she raised her to belong at court, when a girl like Eryn belonged travelling, seeing things, helping people? Was there something she knew that the others didn’t? 

Eryn didn’t complain about her life, not really. She was thankful to Jaina for taking her and her father in, for giving her a life a girl from her background could only have dreamed of, but, did that mean Jaina had a claim to her future, to how her life unfolded? Anduin wasn’t so sure, but, then again, he had little say in his future either. He would be king one day, there was no question about that, but he got to decide what kind of king he was. Perhaps the same was true of her. There was nothing to say she couldn’t do one thing and do another at the same time; just because it hadn’t been done before didn’t mean it wasn’t possible, and Anduin was certain, if anyone could make it work, it would undoubtedly be her. 

Entering Thunder Bluff was easier than either of them had imagined. A few Sunwalkers gave them strange glances, and much to Corel’s horror, Anduin had lowered his hood to greet them. They let him pass, but warned him very carefully, that he was being watched. Corel had been somewhat in awe of how the prince had quickly changed from unsure and confused young man, to almost a diplomatic envoy. 

“We must have no bounty here,” Corel said quietly.

“Or they chose to ignore it,” Anduin pointed out.

Still, he was glad to see Baine. He had changed little since they’d last seen each other, but he was positive upon seeing him, that Baine was still, well, Baine. There was a troubled look upon the Tauren Chief’s face, though, as Anduin and Corel approached. Their hoses had been left at the elevators, the guards insisting they walk through the city. Corel had hated it, but Anduin assured him it was fine; if he couldn’t feel the blood magic then he doubted they had any reason to worry.

“You are very brave to show your face,” Baine said deeply. “There is a bounty on your heads, and for a third companion.”

“She isn’t here, is she?” Anduin asked, looking around.

“You are separated?”

“She vanished outside of Theramore,” Corel spoke up. “We assume Orc’s, but we can’t be positive.”

Baine frowned. “If Garrosh has captured her he has yet to brag about it.” Anduin noted the bitterness towards the warchief. They’d all given up on Garrosh already, yet, he believed, he truly did, that Garrosh could be reasoned with. If he was made to see that the Alliance posed no threat to the Horde, maybe he would come around. “I do not know what is going on, Anduin, and I am so surprised to see a Blood Elf about,” he peered at him. “Silvermoon is on lock-down, no one is allowed in or out ever since your bounty came from there.”

Corel’s heart tightened. Did that mean Lor’Themar was in the same situation as Varian? But why was the city on lock down? Had Liadrin tried something? Sensing the magic had she let on about it? Had she told others, led an attack? It was the not knowing he hated so much. 

Anduin told Baine everything, quickly. From the murders and disappearances, to Aegwynn’s explanation, and Eryn vanishing. Baine looked more troubled at the end of it. Anduin was just glad his friend was hearing them out, that he was safe, that—

There was the strangest crackle in the air, one that shot across his skin and caused him to shudder. A storm was rolling in above them. He felt the rain onhis cheeks quickly, a rumble of thunder. No one said anything.

And then, suddenly, there was movement. Corel had drawn his sword, some warriors of Thunder Bluff had joined in, there was a small figure, a scream of ‘die!’, a strong metallic smell, and then to Anduin’s horror, a red portal like the one from Darkshire opened in the middle of the rise, and mages, with red tinges to their eyes filtered in.


	12. CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE BATTLE FOR THUNDER BLUFF

Time had gone still. Inhale. Exhale. Everything was still. Nothing else existed. Eryn was not sure how long she’d been asleep, it felt like it had been far too long, a long rest she’d needed for a while. But, it wasn’t right. She’d been aware of her surroundings and her body for a while, nothing moved. Yet, her thoughts were jumbled and unfocused. As if, perhaps, she’d been drugged, but it was slowly wearing off. She could organise her thoughts now, focus on things.

Her name, first. Then thoughts of Theramore, Pained, Aegwynn—Jaina. She panicked, urgency rising as she thought of Corel, then Anduin, and then Varian. And everything came back to her—she shouldn’t be asleep. They should be on their way to Thunder Bluff, surely?

Yet, no. There was something else.

She’d gone to see to the horses, make sure they got through their own portal okay. She had found them happy enough, but something had spooked her own, and she’d turned to the swamp to find an orc hunter and a little girl. Anxious for the girl’s safety, she’d rushed after her, but she ran, and ran—and had vanished alongside the orc. A spirit, she assumed. She should have realised it before chasing her, should have been smarter. Now, where was she? Maybe if she could open her eyes. 

Eryn focused very hard on getting her eyes to open but regretted it instantly. Dusty air filtered into whatever… room? Hut? She was in, directly onto her face through a crack in the ceiling. It blinded her, and yet found herself entranced by the way the dust seemed to play with each other. She had no clue where she was. It was not a place she recognised, the only reason she was positive she was still in Dustwallow was the distinct smell of the marsh. She was in a bed in a round room that smelled like all sorts of herbal remedies that she knew, and some that she didn’t. There were odd trinkets littered around, some bones she noted, and tried not to be alarmed by it. The door was open, and she was not tied down—she was not a prisoner, at least.

Her robes had been changed. That unnerved her a little, she was in a long, white cotton dress. Slowly, Eryn sat up. What day was it? How long had she been—

A tall figure entered the hut and Eryn gasped in, feeling for her magic. The troll paused, her bright blue hair flowing down her chest and a sly grin on her face. “Don’ be doin’ that to En’je after she be savin’ ya.”

Eryn relaxed up. “Who are you?”

“I just told ya, mon, I be En’je.”

“And… where am I?”

The troll looked around as though she didn’t quite know where she was either. “I hope this be my hut.”

Eryn laughed despite herself. “Then… how did I get here?”

“A smart question,” En’je said, putting down the basket she carried. Eryn noted it was full of herbs, and a small cat was asleep in the middle of it. “The spirits be sensin’ something strange wit ya girlie,” she started, coming closer to her. For a troll, Eryn thought she was quite attractive, she assumed she was a witchdoctor or a shaman of some sort, which explained all the herbs and the bones. And, the playful wisps which Eryn could see rushing in and out of the hut as if they were chasing each other. “So, they wanted to play, ah, I warned them not ta, but they did it anyway, mon, so I be savin’ ya.”

“Then… I am thankful,” Eryn rubbed her hands. “How long-“

“Over a day, girlie.”

She breathed out. “I need to get back-“

“Ye be goin’ nowhere fast, girlie, the spirits they don’ like you to be leavin’ just yet.”

Eryn’s eyes narrowed, wishing she had her staff on hand. “You don’t understand, I have to get back! My friends are relying on me-“ her heart sunk. “I have people’s lives-“

“The spirits be sayin’ if you be leavin’ you be dyin’ too early,” En’je said seriously. “I be meanin’ ya no ‘arm. I ‘ave lived in this hut for a long time now, mon, I be likin’ my peaceful life.”

“I don’t care if I leave and die! As long as I can protect my friends-“

“There be somethin’ about ya,” En’je said, raising her hands. “I feel it too, girlie. Like ya have two spirits in ya body, that’s not natural, mon.”

Two spirits? What on earth was she talking about? It crossed her mind that the troll may have just been crazy, but there seemed to be sincerity in her words. She’d so far given her no reason to be weary of her, perhaps she could hear her out—or… the spirits. “So, what do we do?”

“Why dat be obvious, mon! We be talkin’ to the spirits.”

Eryn grimaced; she doubted mentioning that she wasn’t fond of undead, either as corpses or as ghosts, would help anything. Still, if all she had to do was talk to some spirits she’d take it gladly. It seemed quick and easy, and hopefully they didn’t speak in riddles. 

“Here, you best be putting these on, girlie.”

The mage jumped when the troll all but threw a pair of pants, another white cotton shirt, and a cloak at her. She wondered where her robes were, but didn’t feel it right to ask, or to make it obvious that she felt somewhat uncomfortable at the troll undressing her. Still, it was nice to have pants on again. The shirt was smaller than the other one and fit well, the cloak was bigger than she’d have liked, and black, but it would suit her well enough.

When En’je was happy of Eryn’s clothed state, she led her outside. Eryn wondered what part of the marsh they were in. There were no signs of Murlocs, nor any signs of black dragons. There was a small firepit out the front, nearby something was bubbling in a large pot which she suspected may have been a stew, but she was positive she saw an eyeball and decided she would rather not sample that cuisine. There were spirits everywhere outside, Eryn felt almost shocked. She’d seen them a lot when she’d travelled through Dustwallow, but they were usually hostile or vanished quickly. Here they just seemed… content, indifferent. 

“So which spirit do we talk to?” Eryn asked, rubbing her hands. She was eager to get back to her friends; they must have been on their way by now. If she left soon she could hopefully catch up to them, even if she didn’t have a horse. Maybe she could even head them off at Thunder Bluff, perhaps she could manage a portal to the outer part of Mulgore.

“None of these be having the answers we be needin,” En’je said, as if it should have been obvious. 

Shamanistic magic was unfamiliar to her. She’d read about it, but nothing could have prepared her for how natural it felt. En’je was obviously powerful, she chanted softly, throwing herbs and salts into the fire. Eryn watched the colours change from red, to blue, to purple—then to an ice white. En’je yelled the final part to her spell and the fire stopped.

Time stopped, too.

Or at least it felt like it.

Eryn’s knees felt weak as she stared up at the spirit that En’je had managed to bring forth. She could ask the how’s and the why’s later, for now she just wanted to stare at her. She knew who she was despite having never met her, for it was her face she was looking at. Shorter hair, smaller body—she was very frail and weak looking. 

“Mother?”

The spirit smiled. “You have grown up well, I am glad.”

Eryn shook her head, gulping down the indignant rage she suddenly felt. This couldn’t be her mother, and this- everything- She felt panicked. Unsure of what to do. En’je was just stood to the side, clutching her staff tightly and observing. The human supposed she should be thankful to her for giving her a moment with her mother, but—

“Your father should have told you… long ago.”

Eryn frowned. “Told me what?”

“How I died.”

“What does that have to do with anything—I don’t want to talk about that—I want to-“

“There’s no time,” the spirit of her mother said gently, moving to float in front of her. Eryn noticed her mother was at least a head shorter. “I wish I could spend more time with you, but we have no time.”

That was right. Eryn’s heart beat quickly again. Anduin, Corel, Jaina, Varian—

“Did you never wonder how you became so good at magic?” she asked quietly. “With your father as plain as he was-“ Eryn smiled, plain, ordinary—perfect words for her father. “And with me… a former priest?”

“You were a priest?” Eryn asked.

Her mother chuckled in reply. “Yes. I was very proud of it too, very pious until I met your father,” there was a mischievous look on her face and Eryn felt herself laugh. “But I was a very sick girl, very frail. As it got worse it began to hurt to walk. I decided I wanted to see the world before it got too painful for me.” There was a pause. “I didn’t make it very far. There were a pair of elven mages on the road towards Quel’Thalas, they were arguingover a summoning rune. I thought to walk past them, but in his anger, one of the elves cast his spell and summoned up an arcane elemental. But it had no form and did not wish to do the bidding of these two mages, so it bound itself to the only other form of life nearby.”

“You.”

There was a solemn smile. “I was… ill-suited to him. I was too frail for him to leave my body no matter how hard he tried, and I had no talent for the arcane, so I could not use the gifts he could give me—instead, he shared his life with mine. They were bound together, after all, he wanted to live in the realm he’d been summoned into for as long as possible. My sickness vanished, thanks to him I got to travel the world. He wasn’t bad company either, but Alchos was very jealous of your father.”

Eryn frowned; it sounded so farfetched. This situation wasn’t entirely unheard of, she’d heard of arcane elementals possessing bodies of those it deemed weak, but this was different and… rare. It was strange to think of her mother as having shared her body with an elemental, too. She couldn’t imagine it.

“Alchos warned me that if I had a child it would use up the last of his life force,” her mother said, looking sad and yet happy all at once. Eryn felt cold—her mother had died… because of her? Was that why her father had never told her? “He would be forced to… share his power, essentially, and he was using all of it at that point to keep me alive and out of pain.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Hush,” she said, reaching her hand to touch her daughter’s cheek, but she was nothing but a spirit, and her hand made no contact.Eryn felt her eyes water; this was not the situation she wanted. This was not the fate for her mother she had ever imagined. With no real details about her mother from her father, she’d let her imagination go wild into imagining this perfect being who died heroically. Eryn supposed it was rather heroic, very selfless. “I don’t regret it. I held you in my arms as I felt my life go and I was happy.”

Eryn shook her head, wishing desperately that the woman before her was tangible. She reached her hands out to touch her, to seek the comfort of a mothers hug she’d never had but--- nothing. She sniffed. She’d always been an ugly crier, but she was unable to hide it.

“Eryn,” her mother said again, her hands hovering over her shoulders. “Alchos’ power got transferred to you.”

“I have an… elemental-“ she shook her head. “I would have noticed.”

“It’s not the same situation,” the sprit answered quickly. “It’s a remnant of his power, his essence, rather than his being. It’s like an… extra store of magic. Your body is able to do magic unlike mine, you can draw on it.”

“But it makes no sense!” Eryn said quickly. En’je straightened, confused by the girl’s outburst. “Someone would have noticed by now, no? Surely I would have?” But she realised she did; she’d always had an extra store of magic within her. Most mages often supplemented their own magic with that of leylines or of the world around them, but she never had to do that. She always had enough, and a bit left over. Now she thought about it—that font had seemed endless, but she’d been terrified of what kind of power she had found and had tried to box it up. But, she felt no other consciousness. “How do I use it.”

“Ask him.”

Eryn grimaced, but concentrated inwardly. This had to be the most ridiculous thing she’d done in a long while, yet, she was willing to give it a try. Perhaps it would be enough power to stop the Maleficar, to save Varian and Jaina! Still, talking to herself—

She focused intently on the power she always felt. If it was the essence of an Arcane Elemental, she supposed it would still have its own mind. Even if it wasn’t a ‘possession’ like it had been with her mother, arcane elementals were just made up of energy. It was the same energy in a different capacity. It would make sense—yet—

_ Ah, so you finally noticed I’m here. _

Eryn froze. The voice was deep—she was almost certain—

_ You’re not crazy.  _

It was getting too farfetched now for it to be reality. She was positive she was still asleep, or maybe she was hallucinating and whatever En’je had given her was causing it. She wanted to run away from the presence, but how could she when it was within her? And, why hadn’t he made himself known before.

_ Why? Because you were not ready, I daresay you still aren’t, but I don’t suppose we have the liberty of time. I know what is going on, I know everything you know. _

Eryn shifted, feeling unnerved at that revelation, yet she reasoned it had not done anything to harm her yet, and, perhaps, with his power, beating this enemy would be possible. Still, what had En’je meant that she would die young? She narrowed her eyes, glancing at the troll. How did she know this wasn’t a joke? How did she even know?

_ Such questions can wait, _ Alchos mused. _You have done large magnitudes of magic recently, it has weakened the hold I have on my power. It is the reason your magic has not been working properly._

Brilliant, she thought.

Alchos chuckled despite the situation. _My power is building into yours unnaturally, if left to flow into you, it will eventually kill you. No mortal is meant to possess such magic. As such, we need to channel it out._

And how were they supposed to do that? It made no sense—and then images came to her. Words of spells she’d never heard of before. She felt energy trickle at her fingers, feeling invigorated, instinctual. How odd, she thought. His instructions melded into her mind. She needed her staff, but it was with the horses. What would mean she’d have to go to Thunder Bluff. 

Anduin. Corel.

There was no time.

_ I agree, wrap this up. I would rather you not die yet. If I must exist in this plain I would rather learn from it before I return to the nether. _

Eryn felt him quite pushy and aloof, but, he also wasn’t wrong. Her eyes opened, and she stared up at the spirit of her mother sadly. She seemed… more transparent than before, less physical. She was fading back, En’je’s spell was wearing off—she tried to grab for her hands. “You can’t go—you just—we just—”

“I know,” She said softly. “I wish we had more time together.”

“Will I see you again?”

En’je stepped forward, a sorrowful look upon her face. “En’je be doubtin’ that, girlie. Ya mother’s spirit be lingerin’ to be guiding ya, now it has done that… it be not needin’ ta… not move on.”

Eryn nodded stiffly. Part of her should be glad, her mothers spirit would move on, be with her fathers. But… but it seemed unfair! She knew she wasn’t the only one who’d lost their parents, but wouldn’t any of them feel the same in her position? Anduin, for instance, she knew he would be trying to gain as much time as possible with his mother. 

“I didn’t ask for this,” Eryn said weakly. “I don’t want this power—this responsibility… I-I just want to be a girl.”

Her mother smiled sadly, becoming more and more incorporeal. Eryn could no longer make out distinct features in her face. The fire in front of her was turning a dark blue. In the distance, she heard a crackle of thunder and she shivered. It felt unnatural. En’je picked up on it too, staring off into the distance with a worried look upon her face.

“No one ever want the hardships they get, but I am confident you can succeed. You’re not alone.”

“What if I fail?”

“Then try again.”

She looked up, trying to grab onto the spirit as it slowly faded. “Wait!” There was so much more she had to ask her, so much more to learn. A flash of an image, a woman, pale, weak, a young baby in her arms—joy, happiness—

Eryn closed her eyes in pain, not sure if Alchon had done her a kindness showing her that.

“That storm, it not be natural.”

The mage snapped her head up. “How do you know?”

“The spirits… they not be likin’ the things they be feelin, girlie,” En’je said, looking at her and coming closer. “En’je knows little of ya quest, girlie, but she be hopin’ ya be succeeding, mon.”

Eryn chuckled. “I hope so too…” she paused. She had nothing on her, just the clothes the troll had given her. If she wasn’t a mage, she supposed it would have been impossible; no provisions, no transport—she breathed in. “You could… come with me?”

En’je laughed, throwing her head back. Her hands clutched her stomach tightly as she cackled. Eryn found herself laughing more despite the situation. “En’je be likin’ her quiet life, girlie, but if ya be wantin’ to see me of me, ya always be welcome here, mon.”

Eryn hated portals, but now was not the time to worry about it. She used the focus of the storm to guide her way through the nether. It was… unnatural, indeed. When she focused on it, she could feel the arcane power crackling through it, the same—

She inhaled.

The Maleficar. Anduin and Corel they were in trouble. She didn’t need Alchon telling her it was dangerous, that it was not the optimum conditions for her to channel out his energy, but then she felt his sadistic glee that at least, his energy wouldn’t be wasted on the air, and instead it would have some use. She felt cold at the idea, but she had to accept it; these people… there was nothing to do but kill them. Aewgynn had made it clear; all traces of this magic needed to go, and Eryn quite agreed.

Thunder Bluff was nothing how she imagined, but she was pretty sure it was never usually covered in blood, or full of the screams of frightened Tauren, or the yells of angry Maleficar. There was fighting—this calmed her. At least the Tauren were on their side, not on the Maleifcar—

She shot a blast of arcane energy at one of the mages who was advancing on a female tauren. She’d been backing into a building, and when her predator had fallen, she looked up at her saviour. Eryn was already gone though, her black cloak concealing her from people. It was… the strangest feeling. All this power as Alchon slowly undid the bonds around the entirety of his power. She’d always had a preference to frost spells, but the arcane seemed to sing to her now, and she blasted another maleficar down.

“Anduin!”

There was a bright light ahead of the yell and Eryn hurried towards it. It sounded like no voice she knew, but if that was where Anduin was, that was where she needed to be. The sight in front of her—it was worse than elsewhere. Corel was covered in blood, whether it was his own or not she didn’t know, but his sword lay on the ground in front of him, and his arm hung uselessly at his side. 

There was a tauren next to Anduin, she assumed he was the origin of his voice. He looked more… official than the others and assumed this to be Baine. He was very impressive, large totems strapped to his back—

In front of him was Anduin, and the sight of a few dead Maleficar. The bright light subsided, and she noted the shocked look on his face—and the panting. He was exhausted from whatever he’d just done. But, she noted, he looked mostly unharmed. She breathed out, carefully scanning the field as she shot another blast towards the mage advancing on Corel. He looked up at his saviour, confusion when he didn’t recognise the robbed figure—

“They’re endless,” Anduin breathed. “How do we shut that portal? How do they have so many people?”

Eryn frowned; she could close it, it would be a good outlet for the energy. Alchos agreed, but she needed her staff. Another maleficar jumped towards Anduin and firmly, she shot another blast, this one crackling like lightning. The mage hit the ground before he could reach the prince, the force of the blast had pushed her hood down—and as Anduin looked up for the saviour, his face lit up.

“Eryn!”

Corel let out a gasp. “You-“

“Later,” she said. “I need my staff. I can close the portal.”

“It is—” Anduin looked panicked. “With the horses, by the elevator—there’s no time-“

Eryn looked around, trying to find anything else she could use. She did not need a staff to do magic, but it helped channel and focus the power. Some weaker mages preferred wands, and some even preferred to not use any. She was sure the only strong mage she knew who happily wielded magic without a staff was Kalec, but he was a blue dragon, so she assumed that he had no need for extra ways to control his power. 

What did she do? Could she just blast the power into the portal?

_ That would kill you. _

So, what was she supposed to do!? They were all going to die if she didn’t do something—Anduin was right. They were endless; how did they have so many people at their command? Humans, elves, gnomes, forsaken—there were so many races all mixed up in this. She was positive she could even hear an ogre or two. 

_ There is a staff you can summon. I will gift it to you. But, know that it will take most of my power to pull it through the nether. After you shut the portal, I will be of little use to you until I regain my power, if it ever returns after this. _

That seemed so finite. She could stop them now, but lose their means of stopping the enemy later? Why was it such a catch 22? Even if she’d have a powerful staff—more magic, stronger spells than before—but… no. No, she had to think calmly. If they didn’t end this now, there would be no later to even think about.

Show me, she thought, tell me what to do.

It was instinctual as he guided her. She raised her hands in front of her, closing her eyes. Anduin watched, focusing on healing Corel, Baine was keeping the Maleficar from them as best he could, and most of them had stopped to focus on Eryn and her strange ritual. The storm subsided ahead, before it shot down like lighting towards her—he almost yelled out for her safety, but she didn’t flinch. The power appeared in her arms, purple runes covering her hands, almost being burned into her skin—and then the light formed a shape of a staff. He could hear Corel breathing deeply, breath hitched—eyes stuck wide on the scene. The prince had so many questions—but he couldn’t take his eyes from her. 

The staff that formed was at least two heads taller than her and was made of a dark wood Anduin wasn’t sure he had seen before. There were feathers decorating the shaft, though the grip was untouched, not even bound with leather or cloth like most staffs usually were. The bottom seemed to form into a skull of a lighter wood and was covered in dark runes in a language he didn’t recognise at all. The very top was a crystal, brighter than any he’d seen before which glowed a faint purple and made the shape that vaguely resembled some mix of a star and a crown he guessed. There was gilded gold it looked like on the top, and a few gems floated around the top, some emanating similar runes to the bottom. It was nothing next to her old staff.

Eryn breathed. She could feel its power through her finger tips. It felt… natural to her, not unfamiliar at all. She was certain her old staff would have shattered under the force of such magic, but this one would hold up well. And, before any of the Maleficar could move, she picked it up, and hit the bottom on the ground, forcing a blast of arcane energy to push them back from her, her friends, and the tauren who had retreated to protect Baine’s back. Spells flung at her, but she paid no mind, instead focusing intently on Alchon’s instructions on how to close the portal. She lifted her staff, chanting the strange spell she’d learned before, and channelled all the energy she could muster from the store into the portal. There were gasps, cries of ‘escape!’ but no one could go near it. Slowly, as the portal closed, the Maleficar seemed to… dissolve, nothing being left of them but piles of robes on the floor. This had been the sight of Darkshire, too, and they’d been curious what had happened to the bodies. Now, it seemed they had an answer—or, at least an answer which brought another question.

She kept channelling until every bit of energy was spent and the portal closed. The storm above slowly subsided, and she felt still, her hair no longer whipping around her face, her cloak no longer billowing around her impressively. There was no lingering voice guiding her. He was not gone, she could feel Alchon’s power still, but it was diminished greatly, and, the most important, no longer a threat. She was surprised that the staff didn’t vanish back to the Nether, and debated sending it back, but it seemed… made for her. Plus, it was so beautiful.

“Eryn!”

She turned to face Anduin, but light headedness brought her to her knees. She saw the worry in his eyes as he kneeled in front of her, the worried look of Corel and the slight awe, and she wondered if it wasn’t apprehension in Baine’s face as he lingered behind them. She was exhausted. “I’m okay,” she whispered to him.

Anduin shook his head, her eyes seemed duller than before but—“What happened?”

“Anduin,” Corel said gently. “I think we should let her rest first, get cleaned up… we can talk after.”

“I agree,” Baine said. “I need to tend to my people, but I would like to hear the story too.” He gave a small look at the girl, unsure whether he should be apprehensive. That was a serious amount of magic, he was, thankful, that she was not with the enemy. But, still, should anyone have that power? He supposed a lot already did; the council of the six, for instance. They were all powerful mages.

“I just need to rest,” she assured him, squeezing his forearm gently. “I’m okay.”

“Where were you?” Corel half hissed, kneeling beside her now. “You went missing.”

Eryn gave a small smile. “Can… we talk about it later?” She needed to process it fully. Everything that had happened, all the spells she knew—she stared at her hands, frowning at the markings which lingered from where she’d summoned the staff. She wondered if they would vanish; they didn’t seem as dark as they had done before, but….

“Here,” Baine said, motioning towards the inn nearby. “You can rest in here.”

“Thank you, Chieftain,” she smiled at him, using her staff to pull her up and disregarding Anduin’s offer of help. She’d just unleashed great magic, she found it amusing that she needed help standing. “I’m okay, Anduin,” she said again. He looked to follow her, like a lost puppy she supposed. “I just need to sleep and some time to think.” She vanished quickly before he could say anything else. 

Anduin watched after her, the end of her cloak disappearing around the door. She’d vanished, reappeared when they’d needed her—and saved them. His fingers twitched. He had so many questions about what had happened. “What was that power?”

The blood elf frowned, also watching after her. “I am unsure, but her magic is changed.”

“What about the staff?”

“There are many powerful staves in this world, and in others,” Corel said simply. “Some mages spend their lives hunting down specific ones. Sometimes they belonged to great witches or wizards of the past, other times they are embodiments of arcane power taken into a physical form. The Guardian Aegwynn’s staff was infused with that of a powerful arcane elemental, for instance. And then there is Atiesh. If a powerful object exists within the nether, the mage only must reach for it and bring it into this realm. Like… how portals work,” he watched Anduin’s confused face slowly process the information. “It takes little power to make a portal, but a staff as powerful as that would have taken a lot. I wonder how she knew of its location. If I was not so used to how she felt magically, I would have assumed it to be an entirely different person.” He paused. “What power did you use before she arrived? You fought off at least four of them.”

“O-oh,” Anduin blushed. “It was during the discussion about why holy magic affects them so much, you remember?”

Corel nodded. “We couldn’t decide how it worked, though.”

“Yes,” Anduin breathed out, folding his arms. His blonde hair was sticking to his face from the rain, and much of his clothes were splashed with blood, or signed from fireballs. “I decided to use as much power as I could… I guess it worked, they lost control of their magic and… overloaded.”

“I see,” Corel sighed, staring up at the sky. They’d come out of nowhere. “We have to stop them soon. We have to figure out where the portals are coming from and to stop them.”

The prince considered him, considered their situation. He felt… so much older than when they’d started. So much had happened in such a short time. He had to admit, Eryn’s new power gave him some hope, but he wondered if she’d be able to do that again. He thought back to one of theirfirst conversations, about the depletion of magic and shifted awkwardly. “Eryn told me once, that being depleted of magic is… sometimes irreversible.”

Corel paused. “Yes.” He looked at him from the corner of his eyes and moved the weight from one leg to the other. His arm still hurt, and he lifted it gently, healing it himself. Healing spells weren’t really his forte, Liadrin would always mock him for it. “I have known mages it has happened to.”

“Do you think that would happen to her, if she did that again?”

“I… don’t know,” he said, looking unsettled. He liked to know things before acting. “I don’t know where the power came from… but… it would not be prudent for her to use that much magic again.”

“So, if she used it to… stop this leader, whoever he or she is…” Anduin trailed off.

The two men said nothing. They both understood what he was saying; Eryn would possibly lose her magic to stop the Maleficar. How did that seem fair? That she would carry the burden entirely alone? Was there truly nothing they could do? Corel refused to believe that; there would be a way. When he knew more about what had just happened, when they knew more about the true power of whoever was leading this attack—perhaps if they could get more help. If they got Jaina first, maybe… he paused. What should their next move even be? Orgimmar? That didn’t seem right. 

And then he considered that they needed information. He’d seen no trace of the assassin in white, the Harlequin during the battle. Whatever they did, they had to handle him first. Get rid of him. Corel was positive he was still following them, but how long he’d been delayed by their detour to Theramore, he did not know. The Maleficar obviously knew where they were, especially now. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long.

Anduin felt rather hopeless as he headed into the inn to help see to the injured. The tauren were good people, he respected them, and they seemed to have a certain respect back. This was how it should be. A caution, but no open hostility. They allowed him to heal their wounds, to tend to the scared with the other priests, and some of the druids, shaman’s and sunwalkers who were able to help. Helping them took his mind off all the other questions, it stopped him from rushing to where Eryn had gone to rest to check on her. Was she okay? She’d seemed so… different. Distant, somehow. 

He paused, excusing himself briefly to check on her. He knocked first, but when he got no answer, he just pushed the door open enough. He sighed softly, a small smile on his lips when he took in her sleeping form. She’d been so exhausted she’d fallen on the bed, still in her cloak with her staff in her hand. Her hair was wild about her face, her lips slightly parted and her breathing even and calm. He’d been worried for no reason. Still, he was relieved she’d come back. He wasn’t sure he could express how he felt when he realised it was her, that not only was she back and safe, but she was able to save them all. His heart had soared. Anduin thought back to the previous conversation with Corel and watched her sadly. It would be a loss to the world if she sacrificed her very power to stop this, her magic was kind and good. He liked the lights she made, liked the way she’d enchant pieces of paper to fly to him while they were riding. Or how she liked to turn random things into cats, or into sheep. What would she even do if she lost her powers and didn’t regain them?

He didn’t suppose his father would send her away, not after all of this. But he wasn’t sure if she’d be able to go and see the world without her magic. He couldn’t imagine it, her being locked up within the keep every day. A caged tiger. 

Anduin closed the door gently, hurrying back downstairs to tend to the injured again. Part of him wished none of them had discovered this plot, that they were all oblivious and had just… accepted the fate that came unto them. Perhaps it would have meant a blood death for a lot of them, but he wondered if that were not a kindness. 

No.

He couldn’t think like that.

If there was one thing he had to focus on, it was being hopeful. That was what Velen had taught him, that was what he knew was true. The light guided him, showed him what to do. Just because it was obscured with shadows was only further proof the light existed. He had to believe that there was a way they would all make it to the end, and that they would be victorious in it.He had to believe that in five years’ time, the mage who was asleep upstairs may have her own apprentice; that the blood elf who was currently talking busily with Baine about something just outside of the main door would have finally found a better future for his people. 

Anduin squeezed his hands softly to calm himself. Everything was going to work out; it just had to.


	13. CHAPTER TWELVE: THINGS ONE SHOULD DO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry don't kill me :D

There was a gentle stillness to the morning. The sun was rising over the plains of Mulgore, lighting up the grass as far as Anduin could see. There were birds flying over, chirping and chittering as they played together. A soft breeze picked up his free hair, playing with it gently, before falling still. It was early morning, and he’d woken up to check on some of the injured. Mostly everyone was healing well, a few people were still bad, but the number of dead hadn’t risen since he’d finally fallen asleep late the night before Everything was so different, so much calmer. 

Gentle laughter reached his ears and he moved forward, reaching back to tie his hair back. It felt like they’d been gone months at this point, when everything was over, he was going to have to cut his hair. He wasn’t sure why it amused him, but it did, bringing a small smile to his lips as he leaned against a building to watch the scene in front of him.

Eryn sat at the edge of one of the rises, with a group of children with her. The young tauren were all laughing and speaking to her in their language, trying to use basic common, and her trying to reply in Taur-ahe. She seemed so... happy and care-free. She was showing her magic to them, polymorphing a bird into a sheep, and then one of the children, who he assumed was learning to be a druid, bent down and touched the earth in front of her. Eryn’s face lit up when the child moved away after a few minutes, showing a small flower blooming. The child looked up at her, eyes wide with pride as Eryn put her hand on her head. Such gentle magic. He couldn’t believe what had happened the day before, the things she’d been capable of. She seemed so… peaceful. Enjoying the air. The wind blew again, ruffling her hair and the long sleeves of the white blouse she’d put on.

They’d stayed up late, the three of them and Baine, listening to her entire story. There had been so many questions, Corel questioned the elemental, and the staff. Anduin had just been more concerned about her safety, how she was feeling, especially after meeting her mother—he couldn’t imagine…. And then Baine, who’d had questions about the Maleficar. Those were the questions they’d been mostly unable to answer. Corel and Baine had stayed up discussing it until late; Anduin had lay there unable to sleep, listening to them. 

“Magic is a wonderous thing,” a deep voice said from behind him. Anduin paused, glancing up at the tauren. “They do not share a language, and yet they are laughing.”

Anduin smiled, watching the scene again. He didn’t want to bring her from it, didn’t want to snap her out of it, remind her of what was going on in the world. “Her magic is always so good and pure… yesterday….”

“Must have shocked you.”

He nodded vaguely. She’d asked once if magic scared him, it hadn’t, even yesterday it hadn’t really, he supposed it shocked him more than scared him. There had been so much power, if she hadn’t been careful, people could have died, or… he imagined it happening in Stormwind, where there were more people closer together, the damage that kind of power could cause. Mages were dangerous. He closed his eyes; their plan was working, wasn’t it? Sewing discord amongst people, making them think mages were dangerous all the time, that they should be controlled. Anduin didn’t think that, it would be a shame if she was restrained when she could do such amazing and beautiful things; it was the same for all mages. The actions of a few didn’t speak for how all mages were. “She’s been so detached recently,” Anduin said softly. “Since what happened in Darkshire. She seems happy now.”

“Who knows what affect that… elemental,” Baine frowned, eyebrows knitting together. It was hard to get his head around. “Had on her.” He fell silent, watching the prince’s warm face and gentle eyes as he watched the girl with the children. He didn’t feel it was his place to make any comment, but he smiled slightly. “My people and I, we owe the three of you a great debt.”

Anduin turned to look at him. “They would not have come here if we had not.”

“They would have eventually, if they want to control everything….”

Baine had managed to give them information on what was going on within the Horde. It had been one of Corel’s first questions. Silvermoon was shut down, no one was allowed in or out of it; all communication had stopped coming out from anyone but Lor’Themar. Sylvanas had covered up the murders within Undercity herself to hide the suspicions, but after Garrosh had accused her of it within his city, she’d had to own up that they were happening in hers, too. Garrosh was livid, turning his sights upon the nearest possible Alliance town. It was only through Baine’s gentle persuasion had Garrosh not destroyed Theramore to the ground yet; he’d convinced him that it may have been someone else entirely. It was only the day after when the news of the bounty upon Anduin and Eryn had appeared. Even Garrosh was not foolhardy enough to not realise something as wrong; but he’d seen it as a chance opportunity to strike at Stormwind while it was weakened. Yet, the killings within Orgrimmar were so high, he couldn’t risk sending any guards or any soldiers away.

Everything was a mess, Anduin decided. 

Baine left him when he caught sight of Corel and headed to talk with the paladin some more. Corel seemed much more relaxed there than he’d been anywhere else and enjoyed chatting at length with the tauren paladin’s. Yet, Anduin could see the tenseness in his shoulders, the way he was looking for any threat. Another attack could happen, they should leave soon.

When the children left Eryn, Anduin slowly approached. He wasn’t sure whether she’d rather be alone and so paused when he stood over her. “May I?”

“Of course,” she said, motioning to the grass beside her. She looked over to where a few of the children were running off, some giggling. “Children are so innocent to all of this.”

“You’re good with them,” he pointed out.

“There’s a school house in Theramore, every morning I used to watch the children go to school, and every afternoon listen to them as they returned home. All children are children, they like similar things. Magic will always fascinate them,” she stared down at the small flower the one child had made. “So much talent.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

He stared at her, wondering whether that was the truth. The wind picked up her hair and blew her scent his way; she no longer smelled like blueberries or like the sea air. She smelled instead like the earth. He supposed that was just part of being ‘on the road’ as it was, yet he watched her carefully, knowing she was not ‘good’ or ‘okay’, she was distant in the strangest way, but he supposed her life had been turned upside down, he couldn’t blame her. Anduin liked to imagine that they could have been back in Stormwind, in the private gardens of the keep, and that she still smelled like the sea air and like old books and like blueberries, that she was laughing at something which had happened in court. That nothing else was going on, and that their conversations were gentle, more about who she was, who he was; what she liked to do, what he hoped to achieve in the world. Perhaps he’d take her hand in that situation, if he were bold enough, perhaps he’d notice the flowers in the garden seemed more beautiful with her sat amongst them.

“She looked like me.”

The prince didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. His eyes closed, then he watched her again. “I can’t even begin to imagine that situation… if it had been me… I don’t know how I could-“ he sighed. 

“I think if she hadn’t gone I would have… stayed,” she admitted quietly “Everything I am, truly, as a person was in front of me… Knowing who I am…” she shook her head. “I can’t learn that in mage towers, or from books, or behind stone walls. I thought I knew who I was, but… but-“ she exhaled deeply. “His power is there, still, but there’s so little of it now. Turns out I’m not naturally talented after all.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quickly, leaning towards her. She brushed some hair from her face, and he caught her wrist before she could lower her hand again. “I know who you are, you’re intelligent, and warm hearted. You care about what happens to people, you try to protect others by taking everything yourself. You’re a good person,” he said firmly, squeezing her wrist softly and then loosening his grip to instead take her hand. She watched their hands fall, held tightly together, onto her lap. She sat with her legs folded under her, and now their hands rested on her knee. “You are talented, you worked hard to get to this point all on your own merit. You were the one who read the books, cast the spells, learned how to use them properly.”

Eryn watched him gently. The sun was warm above them, and his grip on her hand was warm; he was just warm. The light truly was strong with him, and his presence calmed and soothed her, erased her worries and chased her doubts off like they were murlocs after a fisherman’s first catch. To say she had not noticed he was good looking was an understatement, she was aware of it as any woman would be, but she’d paid no mind to those thoughts. Whenever she felt a surge of affection at the way he’d laugh at her jokes, or when she realised how much time passed while they conversed about anything either of them could think of; languages, books, history, warfare—time went easily with him. She lost track of everything, but she found she didn’t mind it one bit.

But he was the prince. One day he would be king. The only girls who could hope to be with him were girls from noble families whose mothers had raised those little girls to be gentle ladies with gently spoken voices and gentle hearts ready to receive his gentle love, to hear his gentle voice. She gulped down the lump which formed in her throat, frowning just slightly. She could not imagine that of herself. Jaina had taught her etiquette; had taught her how to navigate conversations with finesse and poise that she’d be able to join in at court, taught her how to act like a lady. Yet she’d also taught her to speak her mind, to fight for her convictions, to stand by her beliefs. If she had something to say she should say it, if she saw something that needed doing, she should do it. She did not believe in waiting for someone else to do it for her, she did not believe in turning a blind eye to something she could fix. Eryn felt pity for those girls, raised to be nothing but wives, the only books they’d ever clutch were the romance novels hidden under Pained’s bedroom, or the children’s books she often heard coming from windows during her night walks through Theramore. They weren’t expected to voice their opinions, not that type of lady. Not a gentle, demure lady. Something she wold never be; something she didn’t want to be. It would be a cage, no matter how beautiful the bars were, a cage was a cage. 

It was not a future she could hope for, and so she let the feelings she had begun to develop for him flow through her and out. After this she would probably see him little. The feelings would go, and he would fall for a beautiful woman, and she would see the world and perhaps find someone to see it with her. That was how life should go.

Yet she did not move her hand; if this had to be shattered, if reality had to fall upon her eventually, she wanted this moment to last just a little longer. He was so warm and gentle with her, never scared, despite the display of power. He liked when she spoke her mind, he listened to everything she said and would reply. She could not imagine one of those gentle girls would suit him well, that they would stimulate him enough, keep him engaged long enough to keep his head from a book or distract him from helping other people.

Anduin could not tell what was going on in her head. Emotions flickered across her face, but so quickly that by the time he thought he knew how she was feeling, something else had taken its place. Was this even a good idea? He thought back to his conversation with Corel, but he found he didn’t care. He’d been terrified she wouldn’t come back, that if she did—he inhaled the thought of her being hurt, of being dead and gone… it made him want to take her far away from everything to prevent it, to stay at her side and protect her, even if she really didn’t need protecting. He wanted to be near her. The thought of losing her—it put everything into perspective. What did he care where she came from? He was positive his father wouldn’t care at all. He was aware he was still young, that they had a job to do first. Perhaps after that his thoughts of spending free time in the gardens with her could come to pass.

Heavy footsteps brought both from their own little world, and Anduin removed his hand. She tried not to show her disappointment, shivering suddenly at a cold breeze. He gave her a worried look, but she was no longer looking at him, and had focused herself on wiping a grass stain off her pants. 

Corel had seen the way they had been across the rise. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but they needed to talk more, discuss what to do next and they had to do it fast. The idea they could have found some peace in amongst this madness had seemed amusing and yet happy to him, but he also reminded himself of the bad which could happen. One of them could die, or, many things could happen, yet which could change their mind about everything. They could change so much before it was over, and while he reminded himself that they were young and clueless, and perhaps some heart break would be good for them, he felt it too sad that it wouldn’t work. It would be better to save it until things were settled.

“Do you feel well enough to ride?”

Eryn nodded, pushing herself to her feet. “I feel fine. I just needed rest.”

“We should leave.”

Anduin sighed, heaving himself up too. “I agree, they could attack again. We barely stopped them last time, and Eryn can’t do that again.”

“And there’s the assassin,” Corel spoke, lowering his voice. “I think we should head towards Ashenvale. Orgrimmar is out of the question, but perhaps we can head to Darnassus. They might have more information, at the very least they could help us.”

“Darnassus seems the best bet,” Eryn agreed, but then sighed. “Books aren’t going to do us good, we need actual information. We need to know where Jaina is, how to break the mind control of Varian.”

Corel paused, considering his words. Making sure they weren’t being overheard he leaned closer to them. He’d thought the plan up on the way to Thunder Bluff but had only finished it the previous night. It had come to his attention hat they did, desperately, need more information to go off. They knew what they were dealing with; but not who exactly, and not where. He’d hoped to try and capture one of them during the attack and interrogate them, but when they’d all… disintegrated or just… vanished, his plan had gone.

But they were being followed. He was positive of it, and they could use it to their advantage. If he could capture the harlequin, they could question him; get any information they needed. He knew by Anduin’s frown that he did not agree, but he made no move to protest. Apparently, he sensed the dire situation. Eryn, too, looked troubled but had nodded in agreement to the plan, even inputting her own ideas. 

“We can use a snaring rune,” she spoke up. “I can create some, so you can use it instead of me,” she nodded, looking very into the plan now. “I can make them while we travel. Hopefully we do not have to contend with him early.”

“I’m hoping he will wait until the cover of Ashenvale,” Corel said, glancing at her. She smelled so different now; not overflowing with magic like before, but still strongly like arcane. He glanced at her hands. One of them was perfectly fine, but the other she covered with a glove; the previous night she’d still had rune marks from the spell there, apparently, they still lingered. The staff she’d managed to summon all but took his breath away. It was difficult for him to be near it and not be the owner of it; he envied her being able to wield something so strong and so powerful and not have it consume her. Still, it was fascinating, and he smiled sadly when he thought of Kael’Thas who would have found her, and her unique situation to be of greatest interest to him.

He considered the prince then, still shocked at how quickly he’d thought the day before and found his own way to deal with them. Corel debated if there was a way to use it on a bigger scale; if Eryn didn’t have the same scale of power again, maybe it wouldn’t matter if the light truly was that affective against them. He hadn’t hesitated at all in protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. The blood elf sighed softly, his arm still tingled from where it had been injured by the mages, their foul magic had tainted his blood. He had felt it in him, but it seemed it had finally dissipated. He flexed his fingers.

“Are you in pain?” Anduin asked softly. 

“No, I’m okay now,” Corel replied. “We need to talk about what happens if one of us gets controlled by one of them.”

The prince faltered, then frowned. “We find a way to-“

“Break it?” Corel laughed darkly. “What do you think is going to happen? Eryn could decimate us-“ he glanced at her. “You couldn’t hurt her. If you got controlled, you can do damage too—the light is exceptionally strong with you, you just hold back.”

Eryn sighed. She was so tired of all of this. Perhaps she was not made for the world, for fighting like this. There was a line she’d read in a book a while ago which she considered; do monsters make war, or does war make monsters? She thought about it carefully. There was no doubt those that had started these events were monsters, but, what would be the cost of it? Even if they won, people weren’t going to forget the powers mages had, and then those involved would change. She already felt changed by it, more… tired. Less trusting. She didn’t know how Anduin did it, he still seemed to be so positive and so bright. She envied him. The more this went on, the less she thought the foe could be defeated. One small victory was nothing. Was Jaina even still alive? How long before they decided Jaina’s blood wasn’t strong enough, and they decided to use someone else? Then there was the question of what had happened in Stormwind. Varian was under their influence, but where was Genn and his family? Had they been taken, too, or had they escaped? Perhaps they would have gone to Darnassus.

“Eryn?”

The mage jumped, looking at the blonde. His eyes were wide with concern and she realised she’d entirely zoned out of whatever conversation they’d been having. She didn’t want to think about it, if Corel or Anduin turned against them. How could she hurt either of them? It made her sick. 

“I think we should get supplies and leave, we’ve told Baine everything we can, he’s told us everything he can. We’re just putting them in danger,” Corel said.

Eryn nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll see to the horses,” she whispered, standing up. She brushed some dust off her trousers and vanished before anything else could be said. She had to finish this, they all did, and then everything could go back to normal. She could read books in the sun, listen to the laughter of children, take walks around the town at night, watching the stars and—

She put her hand on the neck of her nose and smiled softly. At least they had a plan; if they could get information about the location of Jaina, everything was going to be fine. She occupied herself, fastening her pack to the horse and fixing up the saddles and blankets. They had no need for cloaks yet, considering the weather was beautiful, but she left hers on the horse, so she could wear if it they needed to.

“Eryn?”

Anduin came up behind her, probably standing closer than he’d intended. He felt her stiffen and he put his hand on top of hers. He wanted her to know he was there for her, tell her how he felt; but was it really the right time? But… if they found something good amidst all of this, could they be blamed for it? 

Eryn stared at his hand, feeling her heart jump. She wanted to turn, to look into his eyes and smile; to tell a stupid joke and hear him laugh, and then in turn it would make her laugh. He did that to her so naturally. But she couldn’t; they couldn’t do this. Even if they didn’t have all this responsibility… She closed her eyes. He was a prince, she was… well… nobody. 

She slipped her hand out from under his, then wrung her hands together. “It’s going to be too warm to wear cloaks, but we should keep them for when night falls.”

“Eryn, we-“

“Anduin,” she turned, backing up against the side of the horse. He was a good head taller than her, not as imposing as Varian, but… had she gotten smaller/ It felt like it. She watched him. She was positive he could hear her heart, that it was giving away all her secrets at how she felt and what she wanted to do and say but—she refused to let it betray her. “Anduin, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” he asked quietly. He wanted to lean closer, his eyes dropping to her lips. He’d never done this before. He’d had crushes on girls before, there were times he saw women or girls in court he thought were pretty but… they’d been crushes. They had meant nothing. There was no basis to any of the feelings, and if he’d tried talking to them, he found no substance between them to fuel the feelings into anything out of a simple flutter in his stomach.

But this was different. The flutter had gone still, replaced by the twisting of his insides, shortness of breath if she smiled at him, the heavy pounding of his heart, the inferno in his mind which didn’t allow him to think properly at all about anything—Anduin licked his lips. “Eryn, I-“

“Anduin,” she interrupted. Her eyes moved down, and he frowned. She looked so nervous and scared; was he being too forward? He thought she liked him back, there was a redness to her cheeks, and earlier she hadn’t moved her hand away, but instead stared at him with a gentle kindness he would never have expected to deserve from her. “Please don’t,” she whispered.

“Why?” Her face screwed up. Pain, he recognised. He was hurting her. Sighing, he dropped his hand from where it had been rested on the side of the horse and stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he said. If they were home, if they were anywhere else… perhaps he would have sought his father’s advice, maybe Jaina’s. There would be a way to court her properly, not like this, not hasty moves and unpractised words. 

“Don’t be,” she said quickly, her voice quiet. She wanted to move, to tell him that it had to stop—but she couldn’t. She should. She should absolutely put a stop to it, for both, but- she thought about what it would be like to kiss him. She supposed it would be very nice; he was gentle and kind and warm, and she guessed his lips would be the same. She’d always been so occupied with studying that she’d never given boys or men a second glance, whenever someone offered their advances she’d been able to stop it quickly, trying her best not to humiliate them. But this—how could she stop him when she didn’t want him to stop? She should.

It was the top on the list of things she should do. Stop him, stop these feelings, stop this relationship before either of them could get hurt. She valued the friendship, and while she was certain he wouldn’t be petty if things went bad… that they would be able to remain friends, the pain would change their friendship. She knew that. She’d seen couples fall in love and break up, heard the cries of women in a chapel as they mourned for loves lost one way or another. She’d heard men in taverns sounding so heartbroken that they may find a solution at the bottom of their tankards. That couldn’t be them. 

Still, hadn’t this already changed things? He’d put his intentions in front of her. It changed it, didn’t it? The power between them? She’d given nothing away apart from the bird within her chest fluttering to break free, and the soft blush across her cheeks. But he’d still advanced upon her until—she gulped down. Did he like her, or did he just want to kiss her? Were they actual feelings, or was he lonely? She felt a pang of pain for him. He was worried about his father and about Jaina, concerned for his people…. 

Yet, before she could reach and take his hand, he turned to his own horse and occupied himself. She watched him sadly, clenching her hands behind her back. “It’s better like this.”

He paused but said nothing. Did that mean she liked him back? He was certain she did. He could feel it. He liked her, a lot, he was certain the feelings were returned. If they liked each other, then how could it be better like this? What was stopping her from accepting him? Was it because he was a prince? Because she was scared to be cooped up in the palace? He wouldn’t make her stay there, he couldn’t, hadn’t he already accepted that fact? Or maybe it was something else. He wanted to turn to her, to see if she was watching him, to make her laugh to make her smile, but he couldn’t. How could this be better? 


	14. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HALCYON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a bit shorter than others :3 but I didn't want to go right into more action. There might be about... five chapters, of this one left? But then I have so much more to write! :D

Two men and a woman sat together in a messy study. Books were open, strewn around the place on top of piles of books which had bookmarks in numerous pages. There were files, some half written, some crossed out, and some screwed up littering about. The bookshelves were just as full, some holding trinkets or odd magical items. The desk, which sat at the head of the room below an impressive portrait of the owner’s father, was the messiest; covered with all sorts of books, papers, and objects. Currently, it also held a bottle of wine and three glasses.

The chatter was light, the girl laughing at the shorter of the two male’s jokes, often accompanying it with a gentle hand on his arm, her bright blue eyes full of mischief as she added her own stories to the mix. Keera Dewlight paused, swirling her wine around in her glass. She shouldn’t drink much, she knew, she was on duty with the Ranger General later. Her large bow rested by the door with her cloak and her hunting pack. The farstriders were off hunting trolls today, she had to be prepared for being away. 

Of the two men, one kept her attention rapt more than the other. Though her eyes flickered to the prince, she was more concerned with how she appeared to the other. A new concept to her for sure. She was not a woman who really cared what others thought of her. She focused on her job, what she could do better, what others could do better. Now she was focused on making sure she did her job correctly and was able to get the attention of this man. Corel Dawnfade was a simple man, she had learned. There wasn’t much he disliked, but there were fewer things he liked a lot. The wine, for instance, was one of the prince’s favourite but Corel only liked it. Keera knew he preferred the white wine of which he held plenty in his cellar; the one he’d always bring back from his trips to Dalaran. He wore simple robes, and while he cast simple spells, he did so in the most extraordinary way; like a peacock brandishing its tail feathers. To begin with she’d hated it, decided it was ostentatious and unneeded, but now she grew to love that one quirk about him.

He seemed a severe man, but he was so gentle. He was always careful when he took her hand, always careful when he pulled her into secluded courtyards to steal a kiss or two before one of them had to leave. She’d always laugh when he did. He tasted like the sweet wine he enjoyed and vaguely of cinnamon though she never quite knew why. She moved closer, her blonde hair tied back firmly as she moved her hand down his arm to take her hand.

Corel glanced at her, giving her a small smile, before he turned back to his best friend. Kael’Thas was an impressive person to look at, Keera knew this, he was also very handsome and while he was kind and sensitive, she preferred men like Corel; those who could stand up to her. They didn’t have a peaceful relationship, not all the time; she and Corel argued a lot, but it was all in good spirit. She liked when he would argue with her, to her it showed he cared; but it never made her doubt how he felt about her, never made her doubt how she felt about him. It was funny, she never assumed that they would ever be serious. When she’d first developed feelings for him, she was certain they’d vanish as quickly as an empty surface did in the Prince’s study. It had surprised her when she’d come to care for him as something more, shocked her when he returned her feelings.

He was good to her, made her a better person. She was less reckless when off on duty, always having to make sure she returned home to him, for one more kiss, for one more late-night conversation. She always enjoyed when he’d take her out of the city and point out the stars and the different constellations to her. It sounded so… cheesy and over the top really, but it was a softness to him that no one else saw. Just her. 

Corel watched her as she conversed with the Prince about her work; she was telling him a story about Alleria, one he’d heard before. He knew it ended with Keera falling into a fountain and Alleria laughing. She was… beautiful. He always wondered how he’d been so lucky to deserve such an amazing woman; somehow, by chance, she’d come to care for him. Oh boy, did he remember the first time he met her. She’d barged in all blazing and angry after being refused an audience with the prince. She’d wanted to discuss guard rotations, upset that the prince had gotten involved in what should have been the Ranger General’s decision. Sylvanas had the same argument with him later in the day, but Kael’thas had already been so verbally beaten by Keera that he gave in instantly. He remembered thinking ‘what a woman’ and knowing right then that he had to know her. 

He squeezed her hand tightly. He would marry her one day; just the two of them and their closest friends. Something small but intimate. He hadn’t even asked her yet, Corel was just… waiting for the right time. They were both always so busy with their own lives and own jobs, but he’d started staying home from Dalaran more just to see her, then when she was off in the world, he’d head to the city to study or aid Kael’Thas with whatever he needed.

Keera looked up at him and Corel smiled more.

The sky above the Barrens was dark, dotted with endless stars. A few clouds passed over here and there, quickly passing by. Corel watched them, his mind heavy with thoughts; he should be asleep, but he was unable to sleep recently. He had dreams, too many of them, and they weren’t bad dreams, but they were dreams which he would wake up from rather wishing he hadn’t awoken. So, he often took the longest watch over the night. 

The fire was burning low and he could make out Eryn’s figure to the other side. She was sleeping on her back, a book upside down on the ground beside her, and her staff next to her. She’d fallen asleep looking at the stars, pointing out to Anduin which ones were her favourites. Corel had joined in until they’d fallen asleep.

Anduin was on his side, no noise at all. Eryn let out a small snore and an animal moved somewhere near them. Other than that, it was still, silent. They’d left Thunder Bluff two days ago, and the journey had been simple so far. There had been a few issues with wildlife, some with some Quillboars who had decided they looked easy targets, but other than that, nothing else had happened. To begin with he’d noted the frosty attitude between Eryn and Anduin, but it seemed to resolve itself. Still, he was aware of how they’d look at each other when the other wasn’t looking, or the lingering gazes he’d give her, or the way she always moved closer to him, or would ask for his opinion before Corel’s. He didn’t mind; he was rather amused and heartened to see them like this, but it made him miss Keera. His Keera.

She wouldn’t stand for this situation. She’d probably swear loudly, and he knew she would have tracked their prey and dealt with it already. It was the type of woman she’d been. She’d bring a sharp whit with her, probably telling Anduin and Eryn off numerous times, probably telling himself off even more times. He smiled at the thought. She’d know if they were being followed and how far behind they were, she’d hunt them a good meal every evening and know the perfect way to cook it. She’d probably tell the fountain story to Eryn and to Anduin, both at separate times just so she could say it twice and laugh about it twice. He wouldn’t mind that, he loved her laugh. It had been his most favourite thing.

What would she make of this world?

Well, she’d hate it, wouldn’t she? His smile turned sad as he thought of home. It would have broken her heart. She acted strong, feisty and uncaring, but her home was more important to her than anything. He’d watched her heartbroken enough when Alleria had left on her own adventure. They’d been best friends since they were younger, both with a healthy competition on who could be the best. But Kael’Thas’ betrayal, the corruption of the Sunwell, Arthas—it would have destroyed her. Though, probably not as much as the fate of Sylvanas would have. He was confident he would not like the woman she had become, he wondered, would it have been her fate too? She would have been there, she would have given her life to protect the city, her home. He wondered how she’d feel about his path, his addiction. She’d always liked his magic, would she like who he was now?

He had changed so much since she’d gone. He’d had to. Around him his friends and family died or left; he’d been alone for so much of it. He’d had to toughen up, to become someone he could rely on, someone who could fit in with the changing world, with his people’s new role within the horde Keera would not like Garrosh, Keera would probably have tried to shove numerous arrows into his large body by now. He snorted at the idea. 

She’d like Varian, and she’d like Jaina. He was sure of that. 

He missed his home, he worried about his people more than ever. About Liadrin. Keera had always been fond of her; he supposed that was why he’d taken such a shine to Liadrin himself when they’d both decided to become Paladins. He felt his duty was to look out for her. But, he wondered, staring back up at the sky, did he belong there anymore? He wanted to protect his city, his people, but he knew their glory days were gone. They would never return. Perhaps many years in the future his people would be prosperous again, but….

He shook his head.

Maybe it was time for him to find a new home. He would do this last thing to protect it and then, perhaps, he could leave it in peace. He felt old, too old to keep fighting the same battles over and over; he wanted to do something good in this world! Perhaps he would visit the Plaguelands or even Northrend, perhaps he’d help with the remainder of the scourge. Or, maybe, help aid those who were still displaced by the cataclysm. He could do much good in the world, and he’d seen so much since they’d left Stormwind—how long had it been?

“Corel?”

He looked up. Anduin’s eyes were open, staring at him, though he still looked to be half asleep. He yawned, stretching. 

“You should go back to sleep,” Corel said. “You’re not due to keep watch for a while yet.”

“I can’t sleep,” he admitted. 

“Not used to sleeping on the ground?” Corel asked, smirking slightly.

Anduin laughed. If he was honest, yes, that was probably part of it. He knew it was silly and somewhat materialistic, but he really missed his bed. It had been nice to sleep in one while in Thunder Bluff, but somehow it had made returning to the hard ground worse. “I miss home.”

“Me too,” Corel said quietly, looking back up at the sky. “I think we all do.”

Anduin shifted his gaze to the sleeping woman and he sighed. Neither of them had brought up what happened, but, he was glad things weren’t awkward. At least, not anymore. To begin with she’d not been able to look him in the eye, but…. But, then, out of the blue, she’d found something funny in a book and had wanted to tell him. “What do you think she dreams about?”

Corel frowned, his head snapping to look at the prince. “What?”

The prince blushed, looking sheepishly up at the sky himself. “I mean… she’s always smiling when she sleeps….”

“I didn’t notice,” Corel paused, glancing over at her. She was smiling, and he found himself smiling too. “My wife—Keera,” he said. “She got a similar smile on her face when she regaled anyone she met with a story about a time she fell into a fountain and how her best friend had laughed,” he chuckled. “I think the last time she told it, she’d embellished it so much that there was a fight and an ogre involved.”

Anduin laughed. “She must have liked the story.”

“Oh she did, she would have told you, and told Eryn, on two separate times just so she could say it more than once. She’d probably add a new detail in each time,” he rolled his eyes. “She was a good woman.”

Anduin hummed. He wasn’t sure what to say, he sounded so in pain whenever he spoke about his dead wife that, while he was curious, he never wanted to ask more and cause him to have to relive things he’d rather not. He obviously missed her a lot. His thoughts moved quickly to Eryn, how scared he’d been that she wouldn’t return. If that was how he’d felt for a ‘maybe’ for a girl he was just starting to like, then how bad would it have been for Corel with a woman he married and intended to start a family with? His heart ached. There were some pains which had to be felt, some wounds which couldn’t be healed with anything other than time. “I almost kissed Eryn,” he said.

Corel paused. That hadn’t surprised him, he supposed that explained the awkwardness between them when they’d left Thunder Bluff, he also supposed it hadn’t gone well. “Almost?”

“She asked me… not to,” Anduin replied. “She said it was better if we didn’t.”

The paladin nodded. “Did you ask her why?”

“She didn’t… answer. Not properly,” he moved so he was sitting up. It was cold here at night, the fire had gone low, too, so he kept the blanket around him. He glanced over at Eryn again, sighing softly. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never—I mean… girls… have never been at the forefront of my thoughts.”

“She has a lot on her mind,” Corel assured. “Perhaps try it again, after she’s had time to process it. Or, wait until this is over. We should reach the edge of Ashenvale tomorrow, with any luck-“ he paused. “If my plan works… hopefully we’ll be home by the end of the week.” Anduin shuddered. A week. He was that confident? And then what? He frowned. Corel laughed, shaking his head. “Go back to sleep. Things will work out. You’re both young, you have plenty of years to argue and be awkward and figure it out.”

Anduin wanted to reply that he wasn’t sure, that he was scared out of his mind that something would happen to her and that he wouldn’t be able to save her. The idea of her body lying there, cold and still. He lay back, resting his arm over his eyes. He worried about it endlessly, and when he stopped, he worried about his father. Was he hurt? He wondered what the mind control was doing to him; his father was strong willed, it really must have taken some power. He just… wanted to get back home, fix everything, tell him about the journey, get his advice. 

Sighing, Anduin removed his arm, eyes tracing the constellations and stars she’d pointed out to him. Maybe after all this was over, he’d take her somewhere outside of Theramore where they could see the stars, just the two of them. Get to know her properly, make it clear that he didn’t expect her to be cooped up inside; even if she would eventually become—he gulped. He never liked thinking about the days he would be king, because it meant his father was not there. He hoped it would not happen for a long time yet, he’d only just fixed his relationship with his father, he wanted more time with him. He wanted Eryn to love his father, to see his softer side, the stupid jokes he made in private. He hoped his father would like her, that he’d approve of her enough that Anduin could openly court her. He couldn’t see why he wouldn’t, his father disliked nobles enough; it was part of the reason there hadn’t been suggestions for arranged matches yet. Anduin grimaced at the idea. He heaved another sigh. If it ever came to that, to her being at his side while he was King, he absolutely wouldn’t keep her there if she longed to go off and do things. If she made a promise to return home, to always return to him, he’d wait as long as was needed. They were still young, as Corel had pointed out.

Oblivious to everything, Eryn continued to sleep with a smile on her face. Her head full of dreams which meant nothing, and some which meant everything. Conversation with her parents, the first time she’d bitten into Ami’s pastries, Aegwynn giving her tea to help her cope with the shock of her father’s death, studying with Jaina in her study until late, a warm hand belonging to a boy with gentle blue eyes touching hers as she reached up for a book in a library, his warm voice in her ear chuckling. No worries, all the time in the world. Gentle words whispered in the library met with gentle laughter and tender smiles, talking until it got dark and the candles burned too low for any more reading to take place. Someone would fetch them, hurry them to dinner which they would miss otherwise. Warm hands gently taking hers full of gentle reassurance and strong promises full of protection, safety, and most importantly, home.


	15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: A PLAN

The forests of Ashenvale were much cooler than the Barrens. Sheltered by the thick canopy of trees, yet still so bright and illuminated; Eryn was sure she’d never been in such a beautiful place before. It was so still, not even a sign of wildlife. The odd wisp appeared here and there, but other than that… no sign of life. Not even the Orc’s who had run rampant through Ashenvale on Garrosh’s orders appeared. She guessed he had called them back with the murders running rampant, they couldn’t afford people to be spread out. Through Ahshenvale they would travel through Darkshore, and up to the new hub of Lor’Danel which had sprung up in the wake of Auberdine’s destruction by Deathwing. From there, they would be able to take a hippogriff to Teldrassil. She wasn’t sure if they would be able to get Malfurion and Tyrande to talk with them if they didn’t have Anduin with them She snorted to herself.

Anduin raised an eyebrow. He’d moved his horse to be closer to her, but she’d been so absorbed in her book that they’d had barely any chatter. Corel was on edge, he had been for the past day, and as such spoke little. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking how useful you are to have around,” she said, giving him a sly smile. “Those fancy connections from being a prince come in handy for once.”

He chuckled. “I guess you could say that.” He was anxious to get there, hopefully with their help, they’d be able to help his father and also help Jaina. He wanted to go home. “After all this is over, what’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

Eryn paused. “Well, officially I suppose the council of six will call me in to discuss what happened. I’ll probably have to file all forms of reports, there will no doubt be trials for those who are caught which I’ll have to be involved in-“ she frowned. “Which I’m sure your father will also have a hand in, so no doubt you’ll be involved too.” She watched the realisation dawn on him and she chuckled. “After that… I suppose I’d like to learn more about Alchos. I’ll ask Kalec, maybe he has some ideas about this staff too. I can’t find its name in any of my books, and a staff gets stronger when you know its name.”

“It reminds me of starlight,” he said absently, eyeing up the crystal on the top. 

She smiled. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe I’ll eat my favourite lunch in the gardens and then sleep.”

Eryn threw her head back, laughing loudly at he image. “What does sound good though…” she said, trailing off. “I can’t wait to enjoy one of Ami’s blueberry turnovers,” she sighed deeply, her mouth watering just at the idea. “And a cup of tea.”

Corel snorted from ahead of them. “Tea? I plan on opening the first bottle of Dalaran white vintage I have and sharing it with nobody.”

The female laughed, shaking her head at him. “That stuff is foul.”

“You’re young, you’ll grow to like wine,” he assured.

Anduin felt inclined to agree with her. He’d drunk it often at formal events, usually because it was polite, but he didn’t care for it. Luckily, his father had taught him a trick on nursing the same glass for an entire night, so he never had a refill. Still, he had to admit, it would be nice to just… celebrate somehow. Perhaps a large dinner.

Silence set in again, though Eryn paused her horse when they passed some ruins. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as she stared at them. What had been, what could have been. Such a great empire, all fallen to pieces because of one person’s desire for power. She clutched the reigns of her horse tighter, urging him onwards to catch up. She did not understand how Azshara had made such a deal with Sargeras. To desire power over the very lives of her people and the planet she lived on… it made her sick. 

“Think of all the magic that could linger in there,” she murmured. 

“The highborne were fools,” Corel said angrily from ahead. “They went too far, and it was their own downfall. Those who desire power always destroy themselves. Azshara wasn’t the first. I doubt as if she’d be the last.”

She was shocked to hear such anger from him, but his people had such a long, respectful relationship with magic, that she supposed to have a group of elves turn it to such evil purposes had caused them somewhat of a personal insult. He was obviously not fond of the Kal’dorei though. She thought of Pained and sighed softly. She’d learned Darnassian from her on Jaina’s request, but she’d never met another Night elf before. They seldom had business within Theramore, and those that did often only passed through on ship and never lingered. The highborne were, of course, not included within the Kirin’Tor so she had never seen one within Dalaran either. Sometimes she saw adventureers from afar when visiting Northrend, but she’d never spoken with them. 

“Anduin,” Corel said suddenly, slowing his horse. “How is your Darnassian?”

“Weak,” he admitted. “I do not use it often, those that come to the city often speak common so there is no need. Why?”

“Because we may have call to use it,” he added, eyes fixed ahead to a point which neither of their mortal eyes could pick up. “Eryn, you’ll have to translate if they don’t speak common.” Something in his tone told her he was very much expecting them to not even try and use it. She wanted to chuckle at his put out look, but the sounds of paws caught her attention. 

The two sentinels came into sight slowly, sat atop their great nightsabers with their glaives ready. Though their posture did not seem to intend attack, Eryn was very aware of even her own body tensing, ready to cast a spell if they had to. She gripped her staff tightly, urging her horse forward next to Corel’s. Anduin lingered slightly behind, unsure of what he should do, and then decided to move to Corel’s other side 

Eryn lowered her travelling cloak upon seeing their wary faces, trying to give them a reassuring smile but it seemed to do little good. “You are strangers,” one of them said. “But we know you-“ her eyes lingered on Corel and she was positive a sneer formed there. They were speaking Darnassian as he’d thought. Eryn and Anduin quickly translated.

Then, Corel surprised Eryn by replying to them in Thalassian. Was that really how they were going to be? Too prideful to let the other know what they were saying directly? “Ask them the situation in Darnassus.”

Eryn nodded, moving her horse forward a bit. “We’re on an important task, and we seek an audience with the Highpriestess of Elune, Tyrande Whisperwind. We would like to enquire as to the status of your city.”

“We know your intent and the status of our home is of no concern to you,” the other one said, sitting straight. “Lady Tyrande and Shan’do Stormrage have requested we do not allow you to pass the borders of this forest. Turn around and go another way. You will not bring the foul magic into our city.”

Eryn growled, moving forward in front of the other two. Anduin was translating quickly, fumbling over a few words but Corel seemed to get the gist. “If you do not help us then you will be next. Do you think you’re safe because you’re disconnected from the rest of the world? The magic originates from the Highborne. You are all just as responsible in dealing with it.”

“It is none of your business, human.”

“We need help in reclaiming Stormwind!” she said loudly. Her staff glowed, reacting to her sudden anger, and upon seeing the tense up, she calmed herself. 

“Turn. Back.”

Eryn and the two sentinels stared at each other, both daring the other to make a move. She was infuriated by their attitude! Pained said they rarely cared about what happened to other races, but this was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Maybe they were scared, but—It was selfish, that’s what she decided. The tauren had gladly offered them help, even after being attacked due to their presence, but the Night Elves wouldn’t even see them. She guessed she could understand their apprehension, mages had destroyed their beautiful home, everything which they’d held dear, but—

“Eryn,” Corel said gently. “Ask them if there’s a lake nearby we can use to freshen up. We will find some other way.”

“But-“

“Just ask.”

Eryn sighed, turning back to them and relaying the question. She didn’t answer them after, instead turning off to the direction they had told them, and let Anduin reply to them instead. She heard Corel follow after her, then the third set of hoofs as Anduin came after them next. She was so angry! She knew Pained had always said her people were closed off, that it was rare they would care what happened to the other races, but to not even care if it happened within the alliance? She grunted, sliding from her horse and levitating a rock into her hands. Before Corel or Anduin could question, she pelted the rock across the lake, enhacing her throw with magic so that it flew even further. 

“You should not have lost your temper at them,” Corel said firmly. 

Eryn inhaled, turning to face him. “They deserved everything I said, in fact I was quite restrained,” she clenched her fists, trying hard not to yell at him. 

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but it was-“

“What? Unbecoming?” she laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t care. I understand they have a fear of magic after what it did to them—but this is also their responsibility!”

“Eryn,” Anduin said gently, moving towards her. He’d never seen her angry, she was usually so well composed, but he guess this was what happened when she witnessed something which she considered an injustice. Part of him thought back to the magic she’d used before, that the magic combine with her current fury would have been devastating. The other part of him, however, found it rather… radiant. She was angry because she was passionate about something. He guessed if it was any other situation, if she’d had proper sleep and proper food, if she was relaxed and not stressed with the weight of the world upon her shoulders, then instead of rage, perhaps she would have turned her indignation into sharp words and carefully woven them into a net until those who had slighted her had no choice but to see things her way. He had seen Jaina use her words in a similar way, even with his own father. And, he’d witnessed Velen and Genn use words formed with anger but spoken with a calmness, to let their fury out. 

“No!” She said quickly. “I’m so tired of this. We have no idea what we’re doing, we’re just children,” she glared at the pair of them. “This is too much for us.”

And then, Anduin felt himself get angry. Of course he’d thought the same things a lot, but he’d always believed if she could accept it, if she could do it, then he could too. And yet now she sounded like she wanted to give up on this, on Jaina, his father—even himself. Perhaps she didn’t mean it like that, but they were all stressed, all tired—“So what? You give up?”

“Do you have another solution?” she hissed out. “Where do we go now? Garrosh would never let us leave if we went to Orgrimmar. What? We’re supposed to turn down towards Ratchet, take a ship to Booty Bay? That’s almost a weeks journey!”

“Well taking it out on us isn’t going to help!”

Corel sighed, coming to stand between them before either of them could say something too far. “Both of you pack it in. You’re both tired, both hungry, both stressed, and you’re both terrified,” he gave them a level look, daring them to disagree with him. “I suggest you both take a break while I survey the area and find us some actual dinner, we can not eat mage biscuits again.” He breathed out. “Eryn, you go and wash up first, Anduin you set up the camp.”

“Fine,” she muttered, storming off to the other side—she paused, before levitating her pack with her clothes in it, then carried on.

Another pause, and then Anduin mumbled, looking around for some firewood. He felt himself calm down quickly. He’d not meant to lose his temper with her, he’d just been—scared. The idea that she could give up… it was almost like loosing her. He turned quickly, wanting to discuss it with Corel, but found the paladin had already left to look for prey. He couldn’t exactly go after her if she was washing up, besides he thought it best she had some space. It wasn’t like she had no reason to feel fed up and somewhat hopeless, but he realised he’d reacted poorly; he should have encouraged her, that was his job, he was naturally optimistic and bright, instead of getting scared of her vanishing, he should have used his own light to aid her. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, dropping some wood onto the ground. He sat alone with his thoughts for quite a while. He tried to start the fire with some flint and tinder, but in the end decided it was better to wait for Eryn to use a spell. Ashenvale was so peaceful, so… beautiful. He wished it was a better time, when they didn’t have to worry about leaving soon. He’d visit again after, he had plenty of places he’d seen so far he wanted to visit. Anduin had been keeping a note in his journal during the trip, all the places most affected by the cataclysm he wanted to aid, all the beautiful places he wanted to visit properly.

Corel knew they could work it out. They were both well spoken and kind people, and they cared for each other, no matter what either of them admitted or… well, didn’t. Plus, it was time to put his other plan into action. He’d thought long and hard about the assassin in white, and had already assumed he would have caught up to them. What better place for an assassin to hide than within the trees? What they needed now were answers and a solution to this, and so, he had separated himself from the others. An easy target.

So when he felt a faint flicker of magic, and heard the ting of a blade, he was ready for him. Corel withdrew his sword, parrying the dagger and pushing him back. This man was no mage, of that he could already tell. He used no spells but barriers, or simple enhancements to his own attacks, basic things. Never fire, never arcane, never frost—he was untrained like that. It unsettled him that even he would be able to use this blood magic, but ultimately decided it didn’t matter. He had everything he needed to beat him, and even if he didn’t, he had to do it anyway; this was their only hope for answers. He wasn’t sure they’d survive another attack.

Even though his opponent was no mage, he was incredibly skilled. His heavy armour had saved his life a few times, being much slower than the harlequin. But, he was cocky, and it left him full of openings. Corel was able to read his attacks, respond to them--he had to lure him into a false sense of security. He let himself get hit deliberately, let him think he’d won—

And then he unleashed his own holy magic, blinding him and freezing the blood magic within his veins. Then, while he was stunned from shock, used one of the runes Eryn had enchanted before to bind him fully. He wasn’t entirely sure that the rune would have held, and was certain if he’d been an actual mage, it probably wouldn’t. But he had no idea how to use magic to get out of it, no teaching of how basic barriers and encasing spells like this could be broken with an exact amount of magical pressue frm inside.

Corel let out a small sigh of relief, watching as the power all but overwhelmed the other man. He sunk to his knees, unable to do much else—they would have answers. Corel closed his eyes, grabbing his sword up quickly, and then hauling the man up by the scruff of his shirt, up over his shoulder. “If I were you,” he warned lowly, his voice a grow. “I would get some rest on the journey back. You’re going to need it by the time I’m done with you.”

Soft footfalls caught Anduin’s attention and he smiled softly when he saw Eryn’s approaching form. Her hair was still wet, but she’d changed her clothes. Black leggings again, but now with a deep purple blouse and boots rather than her usual slippers. She looked at him, returning his smile but looking guilty. It just made him smile more, knowing she’d calmed down, that she wasn’t mad at him. “I tried to get a fire going,” he said, motioning to the pile of wood.

She chuckled a bit, bending down in front of it for a few moments. “I’m sorry I got so angry,” she said, not looking at him as she focused her spell. “I don’t… normally lose my temper.”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, moving to kneel beside her. “You haven’t complained once so far… it’s not like you don’t have a right to. You’re not wrong… we are just kids.”

Eryn sighed. “I don’t know what to do next.”

Anduin stared at her; she was watching the fire carefully as though it would give her some sign or answer. He knew she was frustrated at everything, even more since finding out about Alchos, and even more due to the fact she’d used his power back in Thunder Bluff and was not unable to ask him questions. She was probably taking the blame herself. Gently, he put his hand on her arm. “Can we talk about what happened in Thunder Bluff?”

Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the fire, and then she moved her head to look at the lake instead. “Anduin-“

“We need to talk about it,” he said firmly.

She knew that. It would be unhealthy for their friendship to not even acknowledge it, but… she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to reject him and she didn’t want to hear him say that he liked her; she was positive her resolve would all but go. She was tired, lonely, scared—perhaps all the reasons she shouldn’t give into it.

“I like you,” he said.

Eryn inhaled. “Anduin-“

“Let me finish,” he said quickly, looking a little guilty about interrupting her. When she turned to look at him, giving him a small smile, he let out the breath he’d been holding and carried on. “You’ve been behind walls your entire life, I know you want to trael and see the world, I do, too,” he started. “If… what you’re worried about is that… I wouldn’t stop you-“

“It’s… more complicated than that, Anduin. You’re a prince. At some point there will…” she paused trying to find her words. “A cage is a cage, Anduin, no matter how beautifully gilded the bars of it are.”

“I wouldn’t put you in a cage, ever,” he said again, quickly. He squeezed her arm gently, trying to reassure her that his words were true, pure, honest—everything he wanted her to know he was. “I would always wait for you if you promised to return-“

“But how is that even fair on you?” she asked. “What if I’m away for years? What if something happens while I’m away?”

“I trust you to come back every time.”

“But how can you?” she frowned, her brows creasing in confusion. The look she got when she encountered something she didn’t fully understand, he noted.“Anduin, you are a prince. I am a mage. Even if I believed you, which I do, Anduin, you’re too kind and caring to not treat people with care, but…”

“Aunt Jaina is a mage,” he said simply. “And Arthas was a prince. They courted each other.”

“Because that turned out perfectly,” she drawled.

He laughed softly. “I don’t plan on turning out like him, and your magic is too good… to pure to ever turn into anything dark. And… I saw your convictions, just now, I would trust you to put your foot down if you didn’t agree with me, if you thought I was going out of line.”

“And Jaina told Arthas the same things.”

“But I would trust you to listen to you and believe you,” he said firmly.

Eryn sighed in frustration. She was aware that he was giving her almost verything a girl could want. Care, warmth, companionship, her freedom, his trust—he was hard to deny, but she had to. “Even if that’s the case, Jaina is still a Lady. My father was a farmer, Anduin, and my mother a priestess. That doesn’t exactly make me of good stock.”

He snorted, a sound she was certain would have been frowned upon if they were back at the keep. “You think I care? My father wouldn’t care either. He hates nobles, he says they’re boring and always complain about things most other people would fix themselves.” He sighed, shaking his hair and brushing some of his fringe from his face. “Look, I like you. I know who you are, where you come from, I want-“

“But, Anduin, you don’t,” she shook her head, pulling her arm from him. “I barely know who I even am anymore, but even so… Anduin, what’s my favourite flower? My favourite time of day? What’s my favourite book? What do I do on days where I don’t study?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. But, he wanted to argue, that he could learn that later. He liked everything else about her; the little faces she made when studying, the smile when she slept, how she was intelligent, how she was caring and gentle and kind and good. What flower she liked best wasn’t going to make or break it; if she had hobbies he didn’t like… so what? 

“Anduin, you’re saying it because you’re lonely and you miss your father. You’re worried about him, so you want something warm and happy to distract yourself.”

“So what if I am?” he asked weakly. “Would it be wrong?”

“No, but it wouldn’t be healthy for us.” She closed her eyes, trying not to let the hurt show in her voice. She wanted to say yes to him, she, too, wanted something warm and happy, to not focus on what dangers lurked around each corner, but—“Anduin,you don’t want me. You’ve barely seen the world yet. There are far greater people around than me.”

He sighed, but she noted, a strange determination appeared on his face. What had Jaina said about him? That he was as stubborn as his father, if not more so? She’d experienced Varian’s resilience, as he liked to call it, she knew Anduin was not going to give up. Part of her didn’t want him to. “You’ve barely seen the world, either. But, fine,” he paused. Maybe he was going too fast for her, he should take it back a few steps. He already considered her one of his closest friends, but, maybe if they knew each other better, inside and out first, she wouldn’t have an argument. “How about we focus on being friends, first?”

“Anduin-“

“Nothing has to come of it,” he said quickly. “If in a few years you still feel the same, or if you’re correct and I find someone else, then all that happens is we became best friends, right?”

She wanted to laugh at his logic, but also point out all the flaws, all the pain it could cause if things went wrong. But she couldn’t bring herself to. He was trying so hard, she’d never had someone try so hard to get close to her before. She pushed them away and people stayed away. How many times had she pushed Anduin away so far? And yet, here he was, not giving up. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about, we take it in turns to ask a question that we both have to answer?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. “And we both have to be honest.”

“How would you know if I was lying?” she scoffed.

“Because you fidget with your sleeves when you do,” he pointed out, trying not to be smug at how shocked she was that he’d noticed. “You ask first.”

Eryn paused. She supposed this was strangely intimate. She could ask him anything and he had to answer, then again, she had to, as well. It would be based off mutual trust and, probably, mutual humiliation. If she asked anything embarrassing, she had to answer it too. It was a good suggestion, she had to admit, it made them… equal. “What’s your favourite type of weather?”

“I like the sun, but… during the spring,” he answered. “I like when the garden is blooming, and it’s not too hot, not too cold. You?”

“I like snow,” she chuckled. “But I also like the rain. It rains a lot in Theramore, it’s comforting to me. When I first went there, I couldn’t sleep in Jaina’s tower without my father, but the rain was soothing. It became a source of comfort.”

He smiled. “How about your favourite flower?”

“Lavender,” she said quickly, blushing somewhat. He wondered why she was so shy over that; didn’t most people have a favourite flower? “I… like how gentle it smells, but how distinct it is. It’s good for headaches, too.”

Anduin shook his head, trying hard not to laugh. “For me… there is a rose that got grown in memory of my mother,” he answered quietly. “My father likes them, too, on days where he really misses her he goes into the gardens and just looks at how well the rose bushes have taken there.”

A silence sat in. She stared at him sadly, she understood his pain and understood that it was not something which could be fixed. He made peace with it, but, sometimes… he just really missed the things a mother could bring. Cuddles when things were hard, guidance that only a mother could give, the comforting scent—“I picked lavenders because my father said my mother always smelled like them. Whenever I imagined her when I was little she always smelled like them to me, because of that.”

The prince smiled, leaning over and squeezing her hand. It was nothing more than comfort, than a simple gesture to say he understood and that he was there for her, but she responded. This had been a good idea, he decided, glad that she had agreed to it.

They exchanged a few more questions, some more serious than others: ‘what are you most scared of?’ to which Anduin replied losing the people he loved, and she answered forgetting everything, or not knowing anything, or ‘if you could be an animal what would you be?’, Eryn had answered a lion because she thought they were majestic creatures, so powerful and yet beautiful. Anduin had just answered a mouse, so he could hide away from people when he had paperwork to do or sneak out without being caught for once.

The conversation had slowly died down by the time Corel appeared, to both of their shock, carrying a body with him. Eryn had jumped out of the way as the paladin threw the assassin in white down. He was unmasked now, a human, she noted. Anduin recognised him, feeling rather sick; he’d sat at the same table as his father during a feast in the keep only a few months ago. “Is he dead?” she asked.

“No,” Corel said, holding up the rune she’d enchanted a few nights ago. “I managed to overpower him with holy magic, then bind him. I don’t think he’s a mage, but he knows blood magic.”

“That’s… unsettling,” Eryn breathed out. “That you don’t need to be a mage to have the power.”

Corel wanted to laugh at how grim her tone was, but he couldn’t. This was what they’d needed; information. He kicked the man, grunting. “Wake up.”

Anduin didn’t want to watch this, he didn’t want to hear it, but he knew Corel had to do it. That he had to… he looked away, trying to occupy himself when he started screaming. How could Eryn watch it? She was quiet, when he stole a glance at her, he noted there was a grimness to her expresson and a reluctant acceptance. She didn’t like it either, but like him, had understood they needed the information. Anduin listened carefully. To begin with the Harlequin was very stubborn. It took the best part of the evening to break him down—and by then Anduin was sure he was as much of a mess as the assassin. He wasn’t sure a man should ever be able to scream the way he had.

“Where is Jaina?”

“I-in Elwynn,” he choked out, flinching away from Corel, then Eryn when she stepped forward. He had enough! He’d been assured these people wouldn’t hurt him, that he’d be stronger, that—it had been lies, hadn’t it? He should have known everything was a lie—but the power, the allure of all the power—it still drove him crazy. He was digging his nails into his skin as he spoke out. “There is a tower, not too far from Goldshire. She’s kept there. It’s easier for Mafyr t-to control Varian, if the source of power is c-closer.”

“Mafyr?” Eryn asked, stepping forward. Wasn’t that the name of the one who had—she looked up at Corel, who now had the same grim expression upon his face. They had their answers, all at once, but they weren’t good, they didn’t reassure them or help them at all.

“Y-yes!” The assassin said. “H-he can resurrect himself, you see… it takes a long time, and a willing servant… I-I don’t know how it works, b-but J-Jaina’s blood it… gave his powers back.”

Eryn nodded, running her fingers through her hair. Anduin noted she was nervous, scared. He wanted to reassure her, but he was certain his expression was set into horror. How did they defeat an enemy who could just come back in the future?

“So if we kill him then everything is over?” Corel asked.

“No,” Eryn said, now ignoring the assassin. “Jaina, if we free her, he looses his source of power. He won’t be able to hold Varian.”

Anduin gasped, coming to stand next to her. “She’d also be able to help us fight back, my father would catch on quick, play along until we could get there. Then we could ambush them all at once.”

Eryn nodded, biting her lip. “We should split up, one of us goes for Jaina, the other two to Stormwind to keep an eye on the situation.”

“What if she’s well-guarded?” Corel asked.

Eryn sighed. “These Maleficar they’re prideful, they don’t think anyone can beat them. If he was truly worried about us taking Jaina he’d keep her in Stormwind close to her. I don’t think there will be many there.”

It was a good point, he noted. “Then I will go after Jaina.”

Anduin shook his head. “But if he will just come back-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Corel said quickly, cutting the priest off. “We defeat him now, and then we figure out how to stop him coming back after.” Anduin nodded; yes, stop him now, worry after when they could, when they had time to breathe. Of course, they’d need to be quick, if he’d told anyone how to revive him—though what was it Aegwynn had said? They never shared the details of their ritual to start it, fearful of being usurped. Eryn had noted they were prideful; he’d assume no one could stop him, he wouldn’t have told anyone. They wouldn’t even guess they would come for them, certainly not within Stormwind, and certainly not after freeing Jaina first.

The three fell silent. They had a plan, one which would bring the end of all of this, or, perhaps, they would die, but Eryn suppose that would also be the end. She found herself reaching for Anduin’s hand for reassurance but took Corel’s too. It was an unspoken confession of fear. There had been danger ever since they’d left, but, now they were willingly entering the hornets nest; if someone was going to get hurt or killed, it would be now. She hoped none of them would, that this would be over with shortly, and that afterwards, all three of them would be able to take a breather, truly laugh for the first time in weeks, and be free of everything that weight upon them. 


	16. CHAPTER FIFTEEN: LADY JAINA PROUDMOORE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left after this! Ahhh

There was always calm before any storm.

Rising pressure causing an obvious tension in the air before any storm. The skies would be calm, maybe a darkening grey colour with cloud raging from light grey, to dark grey, and sometimes to lilac or yellow colours. Birds would always fall silent, too, or the seagulls would fly close together and closer to the water. Fisherman always paid attention to any signs of a storm, in fact, most people who lived within Theramore had become so used to the slight nuances in air change that came from an oncoming storm. It sent prickles down Eryn’s skin.

Elwynn was far too quiet, there was no life, no bird song. The scent of apple blossom reached her nose, but it was not carried by the wind. There was no wind, it was so still, so… dead. The clouds had created a grey haze over the area, too. 

They had left the assassin in Ashenvale with a binding spell that would eventually wear off after a few days. Corel had wanted to finish him, but after Anduin had insisted that the man had suffered and deserved to right his wrongs, Corel had paused. He had wanted to tell the prince that was soft, to think like that would get him killed, he couldn’t spare enemies. But he’d spoken with such conviction he was unable to.He knew, when he was younger, he would have praised Anduin’s decision; but the years had made him cold, lonely, and harder. Where he may once have resorted to a peaceful end, he now turned to his blade. They’d spent the night in Ashenvale, all three agreeing they needed to be well rested and fed before even attempting this. In the dark and still of the night they’d all questioned what they were going to do.

Corel doubted that they could win; what did they have left other than to try, though? To him it seemed a miracale they’d gotten this far, and if they all came out of this alive- he closed his eyes. They would all come out alive. He couldn’t think any other way.

Anduin had the most worries of the three but had instead focused on packing up each one individually and tucking them away behind his resolve. They were going to save his father, his people, and if he doubted and hesitated it could get any of them killed. He had to trust himself.

Eryn, on the other hand, was more scared than worried. What on earth were they doing? It seemed such a stupid thing, but then again, she supposed there was nothing else to do about it. Either they won or they died. There didn’t seem to be any other solution to this. She wrung her hands nervously, pacing along through the kitchen of the house they were in. It was still early morning, but they’d decided they would leave at exactly eight. Stormwind would be waking up, making it easy for her and Anduin to get through as unseen as possible, while Corel would have enough morning light and time to make rescuing Jaina easier. There was so much that could go wrong. She’d tried, again, to summon up Alchos’ power, even as a backup, and while she could feel the tug of his store of power, he was silent. Her magic would be as it normally was, still, the staff was powerful, it helped her channel and focus her power. Before she would have descried her magic as though it flickered, it was unsteady and uncertain. The staff stopped it. Perhaps because it was powerful enough to be able to withstand her magic. She was thankful, whatever the reason, because she’d put all her trust into making a portal to Elwynn. 

Which was where they waited, near a small farm south of Goldshire. It was abandoned, Eryn knew, she’d been there when Varian was dealing with its former owners complaining about Kobolds. He’d simply said there were adventurers who would be eager to help, that he could not spare guards to hunt down kobolds. The owners had been furious, and had thus, left it. The farm house itself was intact, Corel had managed to break the lock and let them in, keeping from the humidity outside.

It seemed fitting that it would storm, though, maybe it would make their job harder. “There will be less people out,” she noted, staring from the window. “There’s a really big storm coming.”

“Typical,” Corel scoffed. “Not going to be easy.”

Anduin said nothing. He was too worried his voice would betray him; he’d built a resolve, he intended to see this through but… but he felt so small, so… powerless. “We should go over everything again.”

“There’s no point,” Corel said gently, knowing going over the plans constantly was putting Eryn on edge. “There are too many things which can go wrong, we can’t account for everything. Just… try and stay hidden until I can free Jaina.”

Eryn nodded. “I’ll be able to feel her magic, just get her to send a pulse out, but hopefully we will be close enough to the keep to be able to see. If her blood really is powering them, then they’re going to notice instantly. I’ll try and jam any portals they try and summon to you.”

“We have to be quick,” Anduin said.

The three fell silent. Eryn occupied herself by brewing some tea the owners had left behind. “Do you think this classes as stealing?” she asked quietly.

Anduin and Corel laughed, the tension slowly lessening. “Of all the things to worry about, you’re concerned whether one cup of tea is stealing.”

“Well, I didn’t buy it,” she pointed out, looking up at Corel. “I just…” she bit her lip. “I would regret dying and not having had a good drink in a few weeks.”

Anduin snorted. A sound she’d grown to enjoy, a sound she planned to make him elicit in front of nobles once or twice; it would be funny, she decided, to see Anduin act so… common amongst so many nobles. She grinned. She was terrified, though. She could feel it, somehow, things were going to go wrong, someone was going toget hurt. She hoped dearly it wasn’t Anduin, the idea of seeing his body hurt, broken—she looked away, standing up and going to the stairs.

When Anduin went to go after her, Corel shook his head. She needed time alone, to get her head and thoughts in order. A silence set in, one that wasn’t awkward but instead lingered full of emotions neither could express. What could either of them say? Good luck? That seemed so ridiculous, Anduin decided. Good luck on killing people and rescuing Aunt Jaina! “I don’t know what we would have done without you,” Anduin confessed.

“Nonsense,” Corel shook his head, sitting at the table. “We all had our places.”

“Did we?” Anduin frowned, not sitting, but staring out of the window. The sky outside lit up quickly. “You and Eryn-“

“You kept our spirits high,” the blood elf said. “I don’t know if Eryn and I would have been enough, you kept her smiling, you allowed me to talk without judging me. Plus, you healed our wounds.”

Anduin shook his head. There was a rumble outside and he sighed. The storm was getting closer. “You can heal too.”

Corel laughed. “I’m not very good at healing, the only healing spell I’ve ever truly been good at is not… an efficient one. It draws from our own life essence to power it and heal others,” he held his hands out. “If I’d healed you, you’d still have needed to heal me. You’re talented with the light, Anduin, it clings to you tightly. It wants to be with you. I think the light gave up on me long ago, somewhere around the time I gave up hope.”

The prince turned to him sharply. “I don’t think you’ve given up hope.”

“But I did, for a long time I’ve just been living, but I don’t trust new people. I gave up hope for a better future for my people, even if I fight for it. I am too stuck thinking about the things that could have been, that should have been, rather than the things that are. When I finally realised I was wishing for things which have long since passed, I gave up hope of a future ever being as good before I’d given it a chance,” Corel sighed, closing his eyes. “We elves live for a long time, we take our time. It takes us a long time to change but when we do it’s usually permanent. Human’s on the other hand, you burn so brightly because your life is so short. You make the most out of each of your lives and you become so bright because of it.”

The prince wasn’t sure what to say in reply; he wasn’t sure there was anything he could say. He’d never thought of Elves like that, he knew they had long lives but… wasn’t it tiring? They’d all been through so much, seen too much of the darker points of life… He didn’t wish to pity them, pity was a wasted emotion, he felt, it did nothing. If you cared for someone, pity was the last thing you should feel. Instead, he wanted to help but he did not know how. He felt sad for them instead. Perhaps it was no wonder some older people were so… jaded. They were mired by so much bad they’d lost sight that the darkness was just proof of the light’s existence. He thought of Eryn and promised himself he would make sure to always remind her of the goodness, even if his went bad, until the end he was going to make sure she smiled.

Corel thought back to the first time he’d met Jaina. He’d been curious about the human Kael’Thas had been so enamoured with and had ventured to Dalaran in order to meet her. He’d been unimpressed at first, she seemed so demure, meek, and obedient. After he’d gotten to know her, though, he’d found she was anything of the sort. She was strong, intelligent, and assertive. He smiled fondly at the memory of him bowing low to her every time he would greet her with ‘Lady Proudmoore’, it had been somewhat of a joke between them. She’d returned in kind, ‘Lord Dawnfade’. He enjoyed verbal battles with her, debates about his people’s long history, about her people’s place in the world. She was one of the people he considered friend, after all this was over, he wondered if she’d allow him to live within Theramore. A new start there.

More silence. Flashes of lightning, then a rumble of thunder. Footsteps. Eryn had tied her hair into a single braid which fell down her chest. She wore her purple blouse and had now donned a thicker travelling cloak; the one she’d taken when she’d left from En’je’s place in Theramore. It seemed a lifetime ago, but it really wasn’t. It suited her, he decided, it made her look impressive. Maybe not a tiger, a lion, one who was ready to protect her pride. 

“It’s time,” she said, turning the teacup upside down on the windowsill. “Superstition,” she said at his gaze. “I want to come back here after we win and see what my tea leaves say.”

Corel laughed deeply. “Perhaps that is a good idea.”

More silence. This time the thunder followed the lightning instantly and the soft patter of rain came to their ears. It was slow at first, gentle, but by the time they’d reached the road side, it was already a downpour. Neither of them said anything, but Eryn turned to Corel and without warning, brought him into a tight hug. He was quite taken back by the show of affection and smiled, putting his hand on the back of her head. He liked to think if he and his Keera had succeeded in having children, they would have grown up much like her. When Eryn pulled away, he was quite shocked to find Anduin copy the gesture. He supposed there was nothing else to be done; no words, no other physical gesture. This one said it all. Good luck be safe.

Slowly, Anduin and Eryn turned and made their way up the path towards Stormwind. Corel lingered, watching them carefully before turning and heading off towards his destination. He couldn’t do anything to help them now apart from reach Jaina and free her.

The gates of Stormwind seemed so imposing in this situation, Eryn thought. They were so big, and usually so welcoming, but now… as soon as they put one toe over the line… she breathed in deeply, glancing at Anduin. To be an enemy in your own home; she couldn’t imagine it. She wanted to reach out, to take his hand—perhaps take him away, far away. They could hide from all of this. Maybe it was cowardly, but she would do anything to protect him. He was the prince, hope for the future; he would be a good king, kind and just and fair, bright, warm… he would lead his people into a better future, one that would hopefully result in peace.

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing her stare had lingered. He noted she was in no rush to reach the gates, so he had slowed his pace.

“If I took you off now… you’d never forgive me, wouldyou?” she asked quietly.

“What?”

She shook her head, making sure the hood of her cloak was up securely. Her skin tingled; they were being watched, she was sure of it. “Anduin, you have to do what I say, okay? I know you’re technically older… but if you’re in danger I’m not going to hesitate to save you-“ she stopped walking, turning to look at him. “If that means I tell you to leave me and go and wait for Corel and Jaina, you have to do it.”

He inhaled deeply, moving forward. “I’m not going to run and hide while you fight.”

“Good.”

Eryn stiffened, moving in front of Anduin and holding her staff in front of her impressively. She was already channelling a spell when the man stepped out of the shadows of a nearby tree. Mathias Shaw. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t come closer.”

Mathias held his hands up. “I’m on your side.”

Anduin moved forward, frowning when she held her arm up to block him. “Eryn-“

“I don’t trust him, he’s been watching us, why didn’t he come to us before?” She shook her head.

He ignored her, looking directly at Anduin. “I know where your father is, and more importantly, I know how to stop them. You can break through to him, the mind control… he can overpower it with enough reason to.”

Anduin breathed in, pushing past her arm. “Take me to him.”

“Anduin!” She frowned, stopping her spell. “You can’t go with him, Anduin! Stick to the plan.”

“I trust him,” he said firmly. “Maybe you stopped trusting in people, but-“ he broke off, looking guilty. It was unfair of him, she’d never once given him the feeling she didn’t trust others, just she was more reserved than him, especially recently. He wasn’t entirely sure what came over him.

“Anduin,” Mathias frowned, putting his hand on the young prince’s shoulder. “Don’t you find it odd, how she knew everything? I suspected she was behind it, she turns up and this happens.”

“What?” Eryn moved forward. “Because I attacked Jaina? She is like a sister to me!”

“But you resent her for locking you away.”

Eryn growled. She didn’t resent Jaina, but it was true there were negative feelings there, once she’d admitted to Anduin. Surely, he didn’t buy it at all? She took a step forward, freezing when Mathias put his hand on one of his daggers. “Anduin, trust me.”

“There’s no time for this,” Mathias hissed. “Your father won’t be alone for long, if we go now.”

Anduin shook his head. He felt so torn; he trusted Mathias, he’d grown up with him always there, and he seemed fully in control. He didn’t smell like that repugnant magic at all. Yet he didn’t believe Eryn had any hand in it, she was too gentle, too good—“I have to go,” he said to her. “If there’s a chance to get to him-“

“Anduin, I thought you said you would trust my judgment… to tell you when I don’t agree with you,” she frowned. 

“This is not the same situation,” he said, voice lowering. “If you come with me-“

“I will not,” she shook her head, stepping back. She couldn’t believe it; after everything she and Corel had been through to get him back, after everything the three of them had done together to get to this point… he was going to willingly walk into a trap because he believed too hard in trusting this man. “Go with him, your highness,” she said coldly, turning from him. “But if you end up dead everything we went through, everything your father and Jaina have been through has been for nothing to this point.”

He wanted to comment that she was being dramatic, that he was right; he trusted Mathias. It would work out! She should just wait and see. But, instead, he followed the spymaster, eager to get to his father and try and snap him out of it.

Corel had found the tower easy enough, it wasn’t exactly hidden, and the smell permeated the air around it. Thick and metallic. Yet, he didn’t sense the buzz of arcane magic. Not like he would had there been a concentration of mages there. It seemed Eryn’s hunch had been right, she was not well guarded. He noticed no guard outside, either. 

The rain urged him inside, the thunder and lightning becoming stronger. He waited for another crash of thunder to break the door down, hoping the noise was masked. When no one came looking, he slowly started the descent down the staircase. He noted grimly, the walls were covered in numerous runes, written in what he supposed was blood. There were corpses, some were skeletons, others were in numerous other states of decay, hung along the walls. The smell was putrid and he felt quite sick. 

It wasn’t just humans, he noted. There were blood elves, night elves, a few orcs, some trolls—even a dwarf or two. The undead were the harder ones to spot, their corpses were not defaced in the same way, probably because they had no blood, but instead plenty of them looked as though they’d been torn to pieces and… sewn together again, gruesomely, with other parts. Some of them looked to be combined with animals. He felt sick; what kind of sick freak would do something like this?!

The sight and smell of everything overwhelmed him, it made him anxious. He tried to sense forward for magic, but the tower was still and dead. He wondered if perhaps Jaina had been moved, if the assassin in white hadn’t been mistaken or told false information. Maybe he should turn back, get to Eryn and Anduin before it was too late. They’d have to find another way.

But then the sound of a door slamming caught his attention. He ducked into a side room, leaving the door open a bit to watch whoever passed. The jangling of keys, the sound of a limp—he closed his eyes. No magic. The sound of hands rubbing against each other—and then, when he peered into the dark hall, long hair. A woman, and on her belt, a set of keys. He suspected he would need them, but how did he get them without her raising the alarm?

Suddenly, she stopped. “I smell something new.” A cat was at her feet, meowing loudly. He noted it had blood red eyes and stared directly at him. Before he could pull himself back into the room fully, her eyes had turned to his. 

She sprung into action before he could react, a dagger coming from her sleeve to cut his face. He jumped back, raising his shield to block the worst of it. She was quick, and he noted by the laughter, somewhat insane. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Canthen!” She laughed loudly, fingers digging into her skin. “I am the masters most… most trusted!”

Canthen. Wasn’t that—he thought back. “The Canthen I know of is a mage.”

She laughed again, head throwing back, and then, she stopped. She stared at the ceiling, seemingly going limp. “Canthen had magic once, yes, but Canthen gave it up to the highest one… to make him stronger,” she rubbed her hands, now looking at him. “To drain his sacrifices, to watch his experiments, and to keep the source alive.”

The source. Jaina? Corel paused. “He took your magic from you?”

Canthen hissed. “I gave it willingly! He needed power… and he gave Canthen the most important job.”

He felt pity for her. She’d obviously gone insane, and he could tell by the tone in her voice that she’d said the words to herself plenty of times. She was here to make sure Jaina stayed alive, but who was here to make sure she did? She was being used, he wondered why. Eryn had mentioned Canthen seemed popular with the apprentices; he wondered if Mafyr had become worried she would usurp him. It was… almost sad. He didn’t want to fight her, h wanted to give her a release from whatever darkness now addled her mind, but… she was quick with her dagger, yet unskilled. There would be no skill in defeating her. Perhaps….

“The highest sent me to check on the source,” he said, trying to make it seem like he belonged there. “He told me no one else would be here.”

“The highest sent you!?” She leered at him. “I don’t believe it.”

“How can I prove it to you?”

“Speak his name,” she hissed. “Only the most trusted know his true name!”

Corel paused. It could be a trick; maybe Mafyr was the name he was giving out to make it seem as though he was the ancient mage come back to life, or—well, it was the only name he had. He heard a groan from down the hall—Jaina! “His true name is Mafyr.”

Canthen stared at him for a long time, humming and picking up her cat. She ran her fingers through its fur, whispering into its ears and then—“Canthen is sorry to doubt you. The highest… he did not inform Canthen of a visitor… The visitor wishes to see the source?”

“Yes,” he said. 

He followed her along the hallway. Most of the doors along the hall belonged to cells, he noted, most of them with half dead people in them. He wanted to stop and help them all, but he could sense their life force was so low he doubted even Anduin would be able to help. He could help them by going through with the plan, by freeing Jaina, by getting her out of there, and getting to Stormwind with her.

Slowly, Canthen removed the keys from her belt and unlocked the door.

Two things happened when the door creaked open. The figure at the other side of the darkness peered up to glare at Canthen, and Corel took the dagger from Canthen’s hand. Jaina’s glare turned into a look of shock as he drew the blade across Canthen’s neck. A quick death, he doubted she deserved it, but—“Jaina!”

“Corel,” she gasped out weakly, inhaling as he reached her. She was so cold, he noted. His eyes worked fine in the dark, he could see she was pale and thin, her lips were dry and cracked and there were dark circles under her eyes—but more than anything there was fury in her eyes. “Is it truly you?”

“Yes,” he frowned, going back to Canthen’s body to get the keys. He paid no mind to the gargling from her lips as her body twitched, the last dregs of life leaving her. “You aren’t sorry about her, I hope.”

“No,” Jaina spat, rubbing her wrists as he released her. “How did you find me?”

“It’s a long story,” he said quickly, pulling his pack open. “Here, Eryn-“

“Eryn?”

“Long story,” he said again, trying to reassure her. “She’s safe, she’s with Anduin. They went to Stormwind-“ he shook his head, watching as she took the mage biscuits and water from the bag. She ate and drank gratefully—and then smiled somewhat fondly when she found the mana potions in the bottom of the bag. “She spent all night on those.”

“You kept her safe,” she said. 

“She kept Anduin and I safe—you know about Varian, I assume?”

“Yes,” Jaina gasped out, her throat sore, even after the water. She was furious! How could this happen? And to think, it was her own blood- she paused. “Anduin and Eryn are in the city? That’s dangerous.”

Corel shook his head. “Once you have your mana back we’re to teleport in and join them, now you’re free Varian should be able to regain control. Then we’re going to fight back,” he put his hand on her shoulder. He was relieved to see her, even more relieved that she would be able to fight back with them. He’d been scared he’d get here and find her close to death. He watched as she gratefully gulped down the mana potions. “Did you know Eryn has an elemental inside of her?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. What emotion was on her face? Guilt? Shame? “Kalecgos sensed it the very first time he met her… she seemed oblivious to it, and it did not seem to cause any harm, so we decided not to tell her. I asked her father about it—he explained to me about her mother-“ she looked up. “How did she find out?”

Corel laughed weakly. “A lot happened while you were in here. Let’s just say the tauren quite like Eryn now.”

“You were in Thunder Bluff?” she gasped. “Just how long—wait, I don’t want to know… I lost all track of time down here. At first it was easy to tell, but something happened soon after they caught me—that was when they got to Varian.”

“That’s about the same time we got to Darkshire,” Corel commented. He sighed, standing up. “We can discuss and compare blanks later. I’m worried about Anduin and Eryn. If you’re up to it, we should go.”

“And how do we fight them?”

The paladin sighed deeply; it was a question he’d asked himself for weeks. “They have some weaknesses, but we need to focus the leader. Eryn got a new staff, she’s a lot stronger now,” he commented. “Anduin’s magic really affects them too. And we have surprise. Can you make a portal?”

Jaina raised an eyebrow, gracefully standing up despite the state she was in. He did not offer a hand, she noted, and he thanked him for it. She wanted some dignity left, she wanted to hold her head and shoulders high as she looked this monster in the face. “Who do you think I am, Corel Dawnfade?” She raised an eyebrow at him, concentrating hard to summon the portal up right to where she could sense Eryn’s magic signal. She was glad she could still sense it, but… it was changed. She breathed heavily; she was weakened greatly; her magic was weak. Eryn’s mana potions had helped, but she would need time and rest to fully regain her energy.

He laughed deeply within his chest. “I thinkyou’re a woman I never want to cross.”

Jaina grunted, motioning to the portal. “Shall we, Ser Corel?”

He motioned his head, bowing deeply and somewhat dramatically. “After you, Lady Proudmoore.”


	17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LIFE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bad at writing fights welp :v

The storm wasn’t letting up. 

Stormwind was covered in a thick haze, the people hurrying about from door to door to duck in from the rain were only illuminated by the flashes of thunder which were coming more and more frequently now. Everyone was wrapped in their cloaks tightly, Eryn couldn’t tell if she recognised any of these people, but knew that in turn, none would recognise her either. After Anduin had gone off with Mathias she had decided to see if she could learn anything, but Stormwind seemed mostly unchanged. The only place that seemed different was the mage quarter, it stunk of the putrid magic used by the maleficar. She’d only stayed there for a bit, trying to hear anything, but it was almost dead. A few apprentices were hurrying to lessons, she noted a few of them had a rather lethargic look on their faces and wondered, were those ones being used by the maleficar, or were they learning to become one? Eryn shuddered, gripping her staff tightly. 

Anduin hadn’t been wrong, her staff was reminiscent of a bright star. It had worried her at first, if it illuminated her way, it would draw attention to herself. But no one glanced at her, and after she’d held her staff up for a woman to read a sign, she realised the light only showed for her. She wondered how that worked. Maybe Kalec knew of the staff, he was a blue dragon after all, or perhaps Modera or Rhonin could tell her something. She wanted to go home, Aegwynn for sure would know, or even know of where she could find information.

She ought to go after Anduin, to find a place within the keep so she could keep an eye on things without being seen. Perhaps she could head to hers or Jaina’s room there, she could use an invisibility spell to reach or, or perhaps chance a portal spell to get into it but such a huge fluctuation of magic would get Mafyr’s attention and what she wanted was no attention. Especially if Mathias was being controlled too, then Mafyr would already know she was there.

Truthfully, she was also angry at the prince. She took his need to do anything to save his father as a lack of trust and faith in her. She found it reckless like he’d wasted all of their efforts thus far. Maybe he was right to trust him, but she hadn’t liked it, the way he’d tried to make her out to be the villain. Anduin didn’t believe that, did he? What if the reason he’d so willingly gone with Mathias was because he feared her?

She felt cold at the idea and drew her cloak around her tighter. 

The docks were not as soothing as she would have found before. There were bells signalling the arrival of the ship to Northrend, but she realised the ship to Darnassus never arrived, and that there seemed to be relatively few night elves walking around. She watched a few fishermen examine their morning catch, their nets full. They scratched their heads and she came closer, trying to listen as to what was troubling them.

“It smells off.”

“Aye,” the elder of the two replied. “Another haul. If I didn’t know better, I’d say something was sucking the life out of seas.”

Was that possible? She assumed it would just be blood to power it, but what if instead of blood, it was life? Or power in general? It wasn’t just Jaina’s blood that powered the strongest spells, it was her magic, and her very life force, too? It unsettled her, and she realised, very quickly, that as soon as Jaina was released from the tower, Mafyr and the other maleficar would be very aware of their weakened power. Varian was going to need to be a very good actor to convince him that he was still controlled—

But he would turn his attention to the nearest source of power to regain it. There was a whole load of mages in the city, he had followers to sacrifice—but why would he when a source of power and life and energy had just willingly walked into his hands?

Anduin.

Eryn swore, startling some of the fishermen. The younger of the two laughed. She would have laughed too, probably spoken with him about where she’d learned such words at her age, but she just turned on her heel and hurried off. Anduin was going to get himself killed, or worse, turned into the next source of power. What was taking Corel so long? Was he okay? She couldn’t do this alone—but—

Her only hope was to delay Mafyr long enough to not use Anduin just yet. To distract him so Corel could free Jaina and thus Varian, before he could add Anduin’s life into his own power. She had no great plan, in fact she was so terrified she couldn’t think of even a single spell to cast. She just ran and ran. Her feet splashed through puddles, soaking the bottom of her leggings and her robes. She almost slipped a few times on the cobbles of the Dwarven District. A few gnomes yelled at her when she accidentally splashed a few of them, but she didn’t stop to apologise as she usually would have.

She had to get his attention.

Eryn took a deep breath, slowing her run into a walk as she approached the keep. Guards eyed her up, she noted the red in their eyes. Controlled or willing? Her grip on her staff tightened as she entered. No one stopped her. No one questioned her.

Her first impression of Mafyr was that he had a cruel face. She couldn’t say that she’d ever found the Kal’dorei male to have nice faces anyway, but his—his chin and nose were pointed, his eyes a bright scarlet. Hair was long, white, skin was a pale blue—he wore black robes. He had no staff, but she noted a dagger at his side, with red gems in the hilt. He was stood next to Varian, and next to him, Anduin.

She let out a sigh of relief, until she realised his hands were bound behind him. He was looking—well… quite sorry for herself. Still, he seemed unharmed. Perhaps Mafyr didn’t intend to use him yet, or maybe he couldn’t. Perhaps there was a ritual involved and he couldn’t do it there. Her heart beat erratically. Where were Jaina and Corel? They were running out of time.

Varian turned to look at her as she entered, Anduin’s eyes followed, going wide. He recognised her, even if others did not. “Who are you?” His voice was cold, and she flinched. She’d never been afraid of him, just aware that he was not a man you should cross. But it dawned on her if Mafyr made Varian attack her, she would be able to do little. Perhaps a barrier, maybe she could restrain him—but if he got to her, he could possibly crush her. 

“I’m here to see Mafyr,” she said loudly, hoping her voice did not betray her false confidence.

The night elf frowned, straightening up. “Another trainee?” His eyes flicked to her staff.

“No,” she said, lowering her hood. There was a quick gasp—and she had to react quickly, slamming the bottom of her staff down to knock the few guards who’d rushed at her away. “I would like to negotiate the release of the king and the prince.”

“Eryn!” Anduin said loudly, going to move forward. Mathias kept a hand tight on his shoulder. “Get off me!”

Mafyr laughed loudly, a cruel, shrill sound. “Oh this is brilliant. Marvellous entertainment, really, these mortal races they are such fun.” He peered down at her. “Why would I free them?”

“I’m more powerful than the prince, I have more arcane magic,” She paused, nodding when she had his attention. “And the prince won’t leave unless his father is free.”

“Ah, but you see, I need the king.”

“I’m sure you can work a way around it,” she murmured, eyes flickering to Anduin. He was begging her not to do this—not to even offer herself up like this. He felt—guilty, awful—he should have listened to her. He wanted someone to stop this, to stop her—he looked up at his father, struggling more. He had to be in there somewhere! 

“Well, yes, I can actually,” Mafyr turned to Varian and waved his hand slightly. “Why on earth would I give them both up for you, when I can have you on top? I have to admit, I’m going to enjoy watching your life go.” Eryn paled, watching as Varian withdrew Shalamayne. “You’ve really annoyed me the past few weeks. Your death will not be so pleasant.”

“Stop!” Anduin said. “Father! I beg you, come to your senses.”

“Hush, boy,” Mathias said, kicking the backs of his legs so he fell to his knees. 

Eryn gulped, watching as Varian advanced on her. She didn’t want to hurt him, she couldn’t bare it—he was the king, he was Anduin’s father—yet still, she sent a blast at him, formed a barrier around himself—“Is that all you have?” he murmured. “And I willingly let my son go with you.”

Thunder echoed outside.

Varian held his sword high above her.

And then she noticed the red tinge drain from his eyes. She breathed deeply, watching as understanding shot over his face. There was almost no time to react to anything—whatever plan he was forming, he had to form fast. Jaina and Corel would be here soon, right?

He stared at her firmly, his eyes glancing in Anduin’s direction. She understood; he wanted her to protect him, get him away from Mathias, keep him from Mafyr. Discreetly as she could, Eryn nodded, clutching her staff tighter. The king took in a deep breath and she closed her eyes. 

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Varian turned, aiming Shalamayne at Mafyr instead, and Eryn blinked to Anduin, blasting Mathias from him in shock. She quickly singed his bonds. “Eryn!” He cried, watching as Mathias lunged at her—he threw his energy out, enveloping them both in a barrier, sighing in relief when the spymaster was thrown back. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“There’s time for that later,” she breathed out, watching as the room started to become full of people. So many—Varian’s back was to them, trying to hide the pair of them she realised. “There’s so many.”

Mafyr’s cruel laugh echoed off the walls in the throne room. “What can one man hope to do alone against a whole army?” 

“He’s not alone,” Eryn frowned, moving forward to stand next to Varian. She heard Anduin murmur her name, and then he moved to his father’s other side. “You lost your source of power.”

Mafyr sighed deeply. “This entire room is full of power, my dear,” he said softly. “Any of my followers will give me their life if I wish it, they will get me the prince, if I wish it.”

“You will lay no finger on him,” Varian warned, a monster rumbling in his throat.

It seemed so hopeless, though. Eryn looked around. There were still more arriving; how was it possible? The assassin had told them that during the sites of the other two portals, the followers had ‘evaporated’ because the portal had also linked them to their power. Without it, the magic they’d gotten involved in simply drained ever bit of their body. Did this mean there was another source, or were these ones stronger? Perhaps there was a portal in the keep.

Mafyr moved forward, commanding them to take Anduin, but before anyone could get close, two people emerged from a portal in the centre of the room. Jaina took no time in summoning up a water elemental and casting a blizzard to freeze the followers in place. Those smart enough were able to shield themselves or get out of it—it was going to be a case of weed out the weak ones first, deal with the stronger ones after.

“Jaina Proudmoore-“

Jaina smirked. “Surprised to see me, Mafyr?”

“Corel,” Anduin breathed out. “You’re hurt.”

The blood elf paused, touching where Canthen had cut him. “It’s nothing. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t engage them yet,” he turned to Eryn. 

“Yeah, well, I figured something out,” she commented, eyes fixed on Jaina. She was so happy to see her; the only family she had left. It was funny, how the presence of one person could reassure her so much; she felt so much safer now. Varian, Jaina, Corel—they could stop Mafyr, she knew it.

Fighting broke out instantly. She could pay little attention—Mathias was on her the moment everyone moved. He was quick, skilled. A few times he cut her with his daggers when she’d let her barrier down. She used her staff and her magic to knock her back, trying to use frost spells to root him in place, but he was more than just an average rogue or assassin. He was spymaster for a reason. 

Quickly, she blink stepped past him and polymorphed him into a sheep. A stray spell hit him, turning him back, but dazing him enough so that she could lift he bottom of her staff and hit him in the back of the head, knocking him out. She wanted to stand there and laugh; she was a mage, but she defeated him with brute strength. She wanted to turn to the others; had they seen that?

They were winning, she noted. Without Jaina’s power to fuel them, many of the weaker ones were just average people. Some of them were running off scared, others were incapacitated by Corel. Anduin was blinding some of them, but focused more on protecting his father and Jaina who were fighting who she assumed would be the strongest two. They were winning—Varian and Jaina worked down together, she’d freeze one and he’d smash them. She imagined it would be quite painful.

She let out a sigh of relief.

And then a hand came around her throat, a black mist creeping in front of her, forming the shape of a person. Mafyr’s cruel eyes peered up at hers as he held her high. His grip was so strong, she struggled, dropping her staff to claw at his wrist. She tried crying out for help, but he crushed her windpipe tighter—she could only let out gargled cries, wishing anyone would look at her and help her. But no one did. She was alone.

“Foolish girl,” he said quietly. “I will be victorious!” He moved his other hand to his belt, withdrawing the dagger. “Just a little,” he said gently, cutting her arm. He dropped the dagger, putting his hand over the wound.

Instantly she felt the life drain from her. She felt so light headed and powerless—what was she supposed to do? Just die? Let her power fuel him? But she couldn’t utter a spell out of her mouth. She tried non-verbal a few times, but he overpowered them quickly, using her power against her. What was it Anduin had done? She felt sleepy. Back in Thunder Bluff and in Darkshire? Overloaded them?

She thought of Alchos. Of the dormant power within her, of all the years of life she had left and focused it all out towards him. If he wanted power, she would give it all to him. She brought her arms up to grip his arm tightly, digging her nails in—she wouldn’t go down easily. He would kill her, she was going to die, but there was no way he could control so much wild energy he wasn’t used to. Alchos’ power was untamed, new to him—

Yet he never noticed. He roared, feeling invigorated and Mafyr just dropped her. She lay at his feet, kicking him aside. The others turned to him then—Corel’s eyes scanned the room. “Yes,” Mafyr said darkly, forming a spell in his hands. It was so strong, so bright! “Yes!” He cackled.

Eryn felt cold. She wanted to stay awake, to watch his downfall. His lust for power was going to be what caused him to be defeated, she wanted to see his magic now fail him, but—

A shadow loomed over her and she looked up.

Corel’s eyes bore down into hers. Understanding on his face. He should have saved her, kept an eye on her. How had he allowed this to happen? Gently, he knelt beside her, pulling her head into his lap. He didn’t know what to do! He’d lost so much in his life already, seen so much darkness, he doubted he had tears left. Yet this—

Eryn gave him a small smile. She wanted to speak, but her throat hurt too much. Instead, she managed to weakly grab onto his hand. She wanted to talk about magic with him, hear about Keera one more time, she wanted to hear Anduin’s laugh, see his beautiful smile. Just one more time. 

She was so cold, Corel felt. He used his free hand, working his cloak free and draping it over her. He knew it was inevitable; that one of them was going to die, he’d known it from the beginning. Yet, for a while, he’d truly believed they would all get away from this. But here she was—dying in his arms. Such a small thing, he noted. There was almost nothing to her. 

Mafyr cackled more and more, throwing spells which were easily blocked by Anduin’s shields. He couldn’t figure it out! He felt more powerful than ever, but his magic was failing him. Why?! He glared at his hands, roaring and sending a large blast towards the prince. “What have you done to me!” He hollered.

Jaina was able to send a sheet of ice up to stop the spell. Her forehead was laced with a sheen of sweat. She was exhausted, not fully having regained her strength from her captivity, but- “It seems you’ve taken too much power,” she said smugly. “You can’t control it.”

It seemed anticlimactic to Anduin, to see Mafyr slowly become a frozen statue. All that… and he was just… smashed to pieces by his father’s blade. The three stared at the frozen shards, each worried that it had been a trick, yet nothing happened. The lingering maleficar screamed, some of them evaporating as the power drained their life. Others just collapsed to the ground. He was… done? Defeated?

Anduin swung around, wanting to see if Eryn and Corel had seen it, if they were laughing like he wanted to. But they were not where he’d last left them. His heart beat quicker, scanning the room for them; maybe they’d gone after some of the others who had escaped? Yet his eyes fell upon Corel, and then—

“No.”

His knees felt so weak. How he managed to get to her side he had no clue. His hands shook, taking her hand from Corel’s. Her eyes were closed, her skin pale—yet a smile on her lips. Her chest rose, but it was so weak, he could almost hear her heart struggling to keep her alive. He could have been forgiven for thinking she was just asleep—“No.”

“He got her,” Corel explained, blinking furiously as he looked up at Jaina. She’d lost too much, too. There was a fury on her face, yet it was mixed with so much grief. He wasn’t shocked to hear her sob, he wasn’t shocked to hear Anduin repeat the same word mixed with her name, all coated in tears and grief. His voice was getting stronger. “She put all of her magic and life force into him… he couldn’t control it.”

“She gave her life to allow us to defeat him,” Varian said deeply. There was no victory here. This should never have happened in the first place. His eyes fell upon his son. He shouldn’t see this, yet, he didn’t have the heart to drag him away. He shouldn’t see it, but he needed to. The king closed his eyes painfully, watching as Jaina rushed to her side too, kneeling at the top of her head. 

“Eryn,” Jaina said firmly, brushing some of her hair from her face. “I know Pained likes to teach you how to pre-pretend like this, but—”

Anduin sobbed.

Corel couldn’t stand it anymore. They’d all lost too much. It seemed so unfair. She still had so much life left, had so much to learn, so much in the world to change. Dreams to find, dreams to chase. He looked at the young princes grief stricken face and smiled weakly. She had to fall in love with him, properly, make him smile every day, and he had to protect her, make her smile and laugh in return. That was the future that should await her. Not this. Not this… nothing. 

He knew what he had to do. 

Corel put his large hand on her chest and concentrated his light on her. He was old, even for an Elf. He’d experienced so much, perhaps it was time for him to… move on. Be with his Keera in the other world. It didn’t seem so sad when he thought of it like that, in fact it seemed right. The thing he should do. The irony that his spell would take the rest of his life force, of which there was plenty, to give hers back to her, didn’t go amiss on him. Yet, this was not the evil tinged magic of the maleficar. This was good magic, pure, warm. 

Eryn felt warmer the longer he channelled.

He had no idea what affect it would have on her, if he gave all of his life to bring her back. Would she have an unnaturally long life because of it? He supposed someone in the Argent Crusade might know, or someone else within the paladin order, but he would never get to ask, never find out. Yet he didn’t regret it.

“Corel?” Jaina asked weakly. 

Anduin frowned. He could feel her life coming back—but his—he put his hand on top of Corels. What was he supposed to say? Stop? Stop giving your life for hers? He knew he couldn’t stop him from doing it, Anduin would have done it, too. “You will die,” he said weakly.

“I know,” Corel replied. He looked up at the prince, chuckling softly. “Don’t be so sad, Anduin . I’ve had a long life, I have experienced many things she hasn’t. I’ve seen the world, and I’ve been lucky to fall in love. She should experience those things too.”

No one knew what to feel. Two noble sacrifices in one day? Varian didn’t much like it, heroes always seemed so… doomed to him. All the true heroes of history always had a way of dying, and not always nobly or spectacularly. Sometimes it was gentle. This was gentle, he decided. Corel’s power was different to Anduin’s, but he didn’t need to know anything about the light to realise what was going on. He could see it. He heard his son murmur a thank you as Corel stopped his spell. Jaina choked out another sob, moving to catch the elf as he slumped forward.

A life for a life.

Life was a funny thing, Varian supposed. Death, was, just a part of life after all. Death came for everyone at some point, even the Elves who would live so much longer. Yet here it was as clear as day, death was the price for life. She’d given her life to stop Mafyr and thus protect the life of all the innocents who would have suffered under his control, and Corel had given his life to give her a second chance.

Outside the rumbling of the thunder faded as the storm headed off across the sea. The scent of apple blossoms entered into the throne room, brought in by a gentle breeze and accompanied by brilliant sunshine. Stormwind was still.


	18. EPILOGUE: ONCOMING STORM

Soft bird song flew up through the open window, accompanied by a warm breeze and the ever-present scent of apple blossoms. One week had passed and everything was peaceful since. All the maleficar left behind either turned themselves in or got caught. They were awaiting trial, though Varian was entirely unsure what to do. He was currently meeting with Jaina and Rhonin to discuss the issue, Anduin also insisted he extend messages to horde leaders since they had been affected too. Varian didn’t much like the idea of that, but agreed to send an envoy to Thunder Bluff, and since Corel had been involved, also to Silvermoon. Liadrin was due to arrive in the city on behalf of Lor’themar any day.

The week had passed slowly, though Eryn supposed being stuck in bed would do that. She’d woken up a few hours after everything had happened in her bed. Jaina had been there when she’d woken up. It had not been… easy to accept everything. She was supposed to be dead, instead Corel was the one who—

Anduin had returned into the room soon after that. He’d been busy explaining everything, but he’d barely left her side, wanting to make sure to finish healing her. Corel hadn’t been able to fully heal her, just enough for her life. Her windpipe had been almost crushed, he’d wanted to fix that—he’d been so worried. Eryn couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at her, and then he’d held her hand and—there had been a lot of tears. 

After so many weeks travelling and having no bed, she had assumed not being able to leave would have been a blessing, but she became restless quickly. Anduin and Jaina both brought her books, even Varian had come to speak with her, wanting to hear everything from her side, too. He’d found the whole thing quite unfathomable. 

Sometimes she woke up in the night feeling unsafe, scared out of her mind—everything hit her at once. Now she was able to be scared, vulnerable… It was difficult. 

So she had spent most of her days sat under the open window of her room, reading, or talking with whomever had come to sit with her. It was still early that morning, but she decided she was putting her foot down. Her throat felt better, she felt more energetic and she was going crazy stuck inside. No matter how much Anduin insisted, she was not staying in bed any longer. Maybe he wouldn’t like her walking about the city, but she at least wanted to go into the gardens, be amongst the flowers and the fresh air.

The door opened, and she smiled softly. 

Anduin had been so busy that she didn’t get to see him much, just when he came to bring her books or check on her. He’d sat with her and had lunch or breakfast sometimes, for which she was grateful. “You look tired,” she commented, watching as he put a tray of food down. “You don’t have to bring it to me.”

“I know,” he said.

He hadn’t smiled much recently, he’d taken Corel’s death difficultly Jaina had told her. He’d tried everything to save him, but—“I want some fresh air.”

“Your voice sounds better.”

“Anduin-“

“Lady Liadrin arrived this morning, Baine isn’t sending an envoy. He’s trusting my father’s judgement, that means the trial will happen today.”

Eryn paused. Varian had already asked her to be there, she was involved, Anduin too. So many people. To think she would have a say in the lives of these people, people she didn’t know, people who could have families. What did she do? They could have killed and hurt people, but what had been their reasons? Did the end justify it all? And, what if they were good people but made one mistake?

The blood magic posed no threat. Jaina had consulted with Aegwynn, and Rhonin had looked into it himself when he’d arrived. They could no longer use the powers, but the knowledge of its existence was there in their minds. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing, Eryn decided, to leave it in their memories. Of all the bad it brought, a reminder of what power could do in the wrong hands, a good reason of why coveting power would often go the wrong way.

“Anduin,” She said, putting her hand on top of his own. “It’s not your fault. Corel….”

“It’s not your fault either,” he said quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “When I saw you there—I should… I should have been stronger, to protect you. That situation should never have-“ he took a deep breath, staring at her intensely. “I like you.”

Eryn looked away.

“And you like me too.”

“Anduin-“

“It’s okay,” he said again. “We agreed, friends first.” He sighed softly, her hands were so small. She was so tiny, so—the image of her lying there lifeless… he felt sick. He wasn’t worthy of her, not while that could happen to her while he was there. He should be able to protect her—a knock at the door and he looked over. “Father?”

“There you are,” Varian said, staring at the pair of them feeling quite amused. His son was anything if not obvious about how he felt, he was awkward and clumsy about it. “I need to speak with Eryn.”

“Of course,” Anduin said, standing up and looking at her. “Make sure-“

“I’m not spending another day in bed!” She said loudly, and as if to prove her point, swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Not unless you want me to go crazy.”

Varian laughed. She had a spirit; Anduin would have his hands full with her. Perhaps he’d talk to him about her later, figure out what was going on between them. They’d barely had time to talk about anything but the past few weeks—“Go on.”

Anduin glanced back at her and gave her a small smile. He was glad she seemed happier, at least. The first few days she’d taken Corel’s death pretty badly, blaming herself. She was resilient, strong… he somewhat envied her.

“You haven’t told him,” Varian murmured when the door closed. “About your nightmares.”

Eryn sighed, rubbing her neck. She’d told Jaina, and Jaina had told him since he’d had experience with nightmares like hers. They came from anxiety and stress, bad memories from a situation which hadn’t been dealt with at the time. “He already has a lot on his mind.”

The king nodded absently, watching as she sat at the breakfast table in the room. “I assume he told you about the trial?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t need to be there, Lady Liadrin, Jaina, and I will oversee it. There’s no need for you or Anduin to be there,” he’d known she was worried about it. “Though I will take into consideration what you would like to see happen.”

Eryn breathed out. “How do you do this?” she asked after a time. She pushed her fork around her plate, frowning intently. “Pass a sentence onto these people. How do you do it and not feel guilty?”

“It took time,” he murmured. She was softer than she let on, caring, gentle. “It helps to focus on what they did rather than who they are. What would have happened had they succeeded?”

“But this won’t happen again,” she pointed out. “It’s not like a murderer who if let go will kill again. And there are so many.”

“A few years ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about locking them up or putting them to death,” Varian replied. “Anduin helped me realise that… perhaps, compassion is not such a bad thing to have. Compassion for an enemy can help you understand them, but you should draw a line to where it clouds your judgement rather than informs it. I know you’re intelligent. What would you do?”

What would she do? She thought about it for a time. The birdsong outside reached her ears and she smiled softly. Life. It was such a beautiful thing. What would Corel want? Not more bloodshed, not more hatred and violence, he’d want better for everyone involved. “I would make them help those affected, help in repairing the towns and cities they decimated, help in healing the injured. I would… make them learn the effort of hard work and what it can bring. Whether it’s through studying or helping, or just hard labour… hard work rather than just… an easy way to get ahead. They could help people… and though I know Lady Aegwynn believes all traces of the magic should be erased, I think as long as the secrets behind it are hidden, there’s no harm in it sitting there as a reminder.”

“These people tried to kill you on numerous occasions,” he pointed out.

“I know,” she said quickly, looking up at him. “But if I punished them for how much they hurt my friends then I don’t think that would make me a good person.”

Varian smiled. Jaina had raised her well, but she’d changed so much. He remembered her before, how soft she was, how polite, yet firm in her resolutions. Now… she was more open, and yet… she seemed older somehow. He wanted to offer her a formal place on the council, the one Jaina had turned down so many times, but he felt it would be unkind. She was still so young and, as he watched her stare outside, he decided she needed to be free before she was tied down like that.

***

Lady Liadrin blamed many people for Corel’s death, yet found she did not feel sad. It was not so much in their nature to mourn death; they’d already mourned plenty, the name Sin’Dorei represented their loss. But instead, she thought of when she’d first met him and how enamoured Keera had been with him. She missed her friend dearly but knew that perhaps it was a kindness that he was gone. He could be with her again, she’d probably be telling him stories that he hadn’t heard in years.

She wanted to blame the girl he’d given his life for, but found she was unable to. She met Eryn, briefly, when she’d come into the throne room to meet with Rhonin. She glanced to the courtyard nearby where they were talking. Eryn was younger than she would have thought and whatever Corel had seen within her—Liadrin sighed deeply. The girl had spirit and talent. Her death would have been a waste.

Jaina called for compassion in the sentencing of the convicted. Varian listened to anyone who would speak, but Liadrin wasn’t sure why he would. Some owned up and apologised, others made excuses; she found those ones to be the most disgusting. What did she want? Justice. Perhaps it was not something she should have sought in this situation, there were people there who seemed no older than Eryn, some even younger. Would she sentence them to die for a mistake?

No. She wouldn’t. Where did it end if she did? So she found herself quite agreeing with Varian’s decision to split them. Those who seemed remorseful would do good by helping those affected. Some would go to Silvermoon, to Thunder Bluff, to Darkshire—anywhere that needed it. The others who seemed to have excuses upon excuses would be sentenced to hard labour or would be forced to enlist within the military of their people. It would teach them respect, and how power was something which could only be earned through hard work.

Anduin was quite happy with the decision too, and perhaps somewhat happier than his father seemed to be getting on with the horde quite well. Granted, it was only Liadrin, but—it gave him hope for the future that things could be like this. Peace. He glanced to the courtyard where Rhonin had summoned a portal. Eryn needed to go to Dalaran to present information to the council, and he knew she had questions she wanted to ask of Kalec. She’d asked plenty to Jaina, Eryn had initially been angry at her for not telling her about her mother and Alchos, but she’d given up being mad at her for anything, even keeping her a secret, all because she was just happy to see her again.

He smiled.

***

Jaina took in the sea air of Theramore and sighed happily. Since she’d returned home she’d taken a few days off from her work to just relax and make the most of her life. She visited Stormwind when necessary, as she had that morning for the trial. Now she just wanted to enjoy her life. She’d lost a friend, almost lost an apprentice, and almost lost her own life. Things like that tended to make you more grateful, she supposed.

She heard the docksman ring the bell to alert people to the arrival of the ship to Menethil and sipped at her tea. What would Eryn do now? She’d spoken with her about her intentions briefly, but she’d been entirely undecided. She had a list of places to go and didn’t know where to start. And then there was Anduin.

Jaina breathed out, finding it quite amusing that she would fall for the prince, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

It made her reminiscent of an older time, when a handsome prince had courted her and sought only her attention. She missed Arthas, of course she did, but she had made peace with it. He died long ago, that day he’d gone into Stratholme… burned it down. That was when she’d lost him, or was it before? Yet with a prince like Anduin, a man like Anduin, she knew Eryn didn’t have to worry about his fate. Maybe she would get the happy ending, perhaps everything would work out for them. It was a strange idea, she’d raised her to follow in her footsteps, perhaps she should have anticipated that it would bring Eryn and Anduin together in the strangest way.

It was a beautiful day. She had hope, plenty of it, for the first time in a long time. Everything would work out, she knew it. Yet, as soft footfalls caught her attention, Jaina took in Pained’s grim expression. The breeze outside had stopped and the air was still. Something was coming.

***

Garrosh Hellscream sat upon his ‘throne’ in Orgrimmar. 

He’d just received reports that the murderers had been dealt with. Magic of some sort. He grunted; as if they didn’t have to worry about demons, and now this? He’d heard what that human mage had done, too, the power she’d exhibited. Yet none of that concerned him. The horde had taken numbers of casualties, some infrastructure, too, but it was nothing next to the Alliance. According to his sources, the Lady Jaina Proudmoore had retired to Theramore to recuperate, still incredibly weakened. 

He would not have an alliance power on his doorstep any longer! And now was the perfect time to attack. It’s leader was weakened, the alliance as a whole was weakened. Garrosh felt quite smug at himself and his great idea. By the end of the day Theramore wouldn’t exist anymore, and Garrosh would be quite glad for it.

***

Kalec breathed as he looked at Eryn’s staff. “I know of this, it must have taken a lot of power to summon it,” he said, looking at her in shock. “The gem at the top is the essence of a distant star. The story is that it was too bright and had too much power, so the titans locked it away in the nether instead,” he told her. Eryn stared at her, feeling quite in awe. “I’ve only heard of two mortals possessing it before, both a very long time ago. They do extraordinary things with it… but it’s always been a sign of hard and desperate times. Those that wield it always underwent great personal trials. The second wielder didn’t… well,” Kalec shook his head, looking remorseful. “He succeeded, but it left him grief stricken for much of his life. You must be hard of heart and mind to face whatever is in store for you, Lady Eryn,” he said, looking at her, trying to see her clearly. 

Well, she thought, what else could life possibly throw at her after the past weeks? She almost wanted to dare fate to throw something else at her, but then decided better of risking it. She wanted some peace and quiet, just for a bit, before she decided to go into the world. 

Eryn held her staff in her hands, taking in Kalec’s words. So Anduin was right about it being like a star, it was the power of a distant star. She felt so in awe, even Kalec seemed to be in awe of it, and he was a blue dragon. She breathed out. Her throat still hurt, she still felt so weak, but the weight of power in her hands seemed so significant to her. “Do you know of its name?” she asked the aspect, not taking her eyes off the glowing figurehead.

“Arcalima, token of the oncoming storm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh if you made it this far then thank you! I'm always surprised when people willingly read the words which fall to my fingers without me thinking too much about them. Somehow they seem to fall into a somewhat correct order and stories happen. I've really enjoyed writing this one, I could have written more, but also want to get into the next part of Eryn's story, one that is more about her as a person than her as having this job to do that was unwillingly thrust upon her. Really, thank you for reading all of this! I don't know why on earth you would have, I'm most certainly not an amazing writer at all, but it really means so much. Thank you! And look out for the next series in Eryn's story!


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